Sisters of War
by StrangerWithMyFace
Summary: There's a new race residing in the Forbidden Forest; when Ginny Weasley ends up in their custody, things begin to change for her, and also for the Malfoys. Meanwhile, war rages on.
1. The Sky is Falling

**DISCLAIMER: **The settings and characters are shamelessly stolen from _Harry Potter. _I am not making money. No copyright infringement intended. 

**NOTES:** I realize I shouldn't be starting another story when I have so many works in progress already, but this bunny hit me and I just couldn't stop myself.  Mostly I blame Fearthainn, of "Dark Directed" fame, and the books she made me read over the summer. She also beta-ed this, which serves her right. Also thank you to w&m_law who also provided a beta job as well. It's always appreciated, even if I don't always like what you have to say. *luff* 

*

Chapter One: The Sky is Falling

* 

          "Why do I have to leave?" Ginny demanded, feeling one of her trademark door-slamming, feet-stomping tantrums coming on. 

"Because it's not _safe_ here, Ginny," her Mum responded with an equal degree of feeling. 

Ginny didn't even know why she bothered arguing with her Mum. No one could out-shout Molly Weasley. And this time it was obvious she meant what she was saying. even Fred and George looked nervous, in the spot where they were eavesdropping, out of Molly's line of sight (and wrath). It didn't mean she had to like it though. 

"I know. But why do _I _have to go? You're not making anyone else run and hide!" Ginny flailed her arms exuberantly, trying to make her mother understand how much she truly loathed this idea. 

Sending her to Hogwarts. What rubbish. Ever since Arthur Weasley had been attacked and nearly died several months ago, Molly had been overprotective of her clan, but this was ridiculous. 

"They're _older_ than you, dear," Molly explained with all the patience she could muster. "They're of legal age. If they want to stay and… help… well, I can't stop them. But it's still my job to protect you." 

"What about Ron?" Ginny spat, folding her arms across her chest. "He's not 'of legal age,' and he's friends with Harry! I bet he's loads more likely to get killed than me!" 

Molly blanched at the mention of killing. Ginny heard Fred whisper to George, "I know I want to kill him," at just the right pitch, so Ginny could hear him but her Mum could not. 

"Ginny," said Molly, the strain of the last year evident on her face, "I just want to protect you and take care of you while I can. If you're at Hogwarts – with Dumbledore – you'll be safe and it'll be one less thing I have to worry about." She looked at her only daughter imploringly. "I don't want to see you hurt. Please do this, for me." 

Ginny sighed, knowing she was beat. No child could give in to the "please do this for me" argument, especially when their parents had been through the year Ginny's had. It was the trump card. 

*

That afternoon she began packing her things into her trunk again. She had just unpacked them from the previous school year and she couldn't believe she was already going back, less than a month into summer holidays. 

It wasn't fair, she told herself over and over. Her Mum always did this to her. She made her go upstairs when important news was being discussed. She was surprised she didn't have to hold her Mum's hand at King's Cross anymore, like she couldn't be trusted not to wander off into the crowd of Muggles, never to be seen again. 

She bid her posters and fluffy duvet a mournful farewell. She loved her room. She loved her house. And, less than five hours ago she had learned she wouldn't be seeing it again for more than a year. That was, if they let her come home next year. She enjoyed Hogwarts, she did. But it was _school_. Who wanted to stay there all alone, listening to their own footsteps echoing in the empty corridors? 

She wondered if the Professors stayed at the castle during summer holidays. She wasn't sure she wanted to spend her holiday with her _teachers. _It was just too embarrassing for words. All her mates would return to school with stories of their brilliant trips all over the world. They'd go to the continent and see places with lots of history and culture, or to someplace sunny and return with the type of tan Ginny couldn't get if she spent 24 hours a day out of doors. 

And she'd be at Hogwarts. Maybe if she was lucky she could get a head start on her schoolwork. Help Professor Sprout squeeze bubotuber pus or bottle potions while Snape eyed her suspiciously. She bet Professor McGonagall would have loads of "fun" work to do. 

She wanted to cry and throw her stuffed animals around but she knew that would confirm her Mum's suspicions: Ginny was not grown up enough. 

Perhaps things would've been different if Ginny were not the only girl or the youngest. But there was no use speculating. Whatever the reason, Molly Weasley didn't want to see her baby harmed so she was shipping her off for a summer in the safest – most boring – place she could think of, truly believing in her heart of hearts that it was "for the best." 

*

"Bye, Gin," said George, looking especially sorry for his sister. He leaned over to hug her. "Don't worry. We'll write." Then when their Mum was out of hearing he added: "And we'll send you "supplies" if you ever get bored." 

His twin, Fred, nodded empathically and winked at her. 

Her two oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, were not at the Burrow. Bill was on some secret mission and Charlie was still in Romania. Oddly enough, both had sent her farewell gifts which only served to make Ginny angry. Obviously, they had both known about this plan before she had. 

Though they had hoped the Ministry acknowledging that You-Know-Who had returned would bring him back to the family, Percy was still missing in action. Ginny presumed he was at his flat in London. She had received a card and a book about mythology from him on her last birthday. She hadn't told her Mum. It would only make her cry. 

Ron was sitting at the kitchen table, writing intently on a scrap of parchment. Ginny was pretty sure he was doodling. "Bye, Ron," she said, to get his attention. He turned around to look at her. 

"Don't look so glum, Gin. You'll have loads of time to practice Quidditch on the school pitch. You're sure to make Chaser now." He stood up and hugged her as Fred and George had. She was sure Ron was just trying to make her feel better about everything. As far as she could tell, her brothers all thought it was unfair that Ginny had to leave but were glad she was going somewhere safe. 

"I'll see you on September 1st," he added in a last effort to cheer her up before she left. 

*

Since Ginny was too young to Apparate, she was sent to Hogwarts on her broomstick. She didn't mind that much. She loved to fly and wanted the time to herself. What she did mind was being guarded by a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Like she couldn't be trusted to reach the school herself! 

Ron patiently reminded her that Harry had several guards when he arrived at Grimmauld Place last summer. That only made Ginny grumble more. Famous Harry was heavily guarded like he was made of gold. Ginny just got one bloke who seemed annoyed at having to escort a little girl to school. You'd think he was just out of the academy, working such menial jobs. 

The whipping wind prevented Kingsley and Ginny from carrying on any conversation during the broom ride, which was just fine with Ginny. She felt more like sulking and seething than talking about the weather or what she planned on doing after Hogwarts. She would only be terse and rude to him anyhow then she'd feel guilty and be forced to apologize. It wasn't his fault she was being shipped off to Hogwarts. 

It was entirely her mother's fault. Ginny wanted to be angry at her as well. And she was, a lot. But part of her knew her mum was trying to protect her. That was what mothers did, after all. Mostly she felt guilty for needing to be protected, for doing such foolish things in her first year, and for being the one that couldn't be trusted to take care of herself. It was embarrassing. 

Ginny felt warm, as though the skin all over her body was aflame. She imagined her whole body turning red, blushing from head to foot. She hoped Kinsley hadn't noticed. She looked down at her hands, and that was when the world fell out from underneath her. 

For one brief, sickening moment, she hung in the air, realizing that the heat around her was not coming from her own body. Then she fell. Her stomach stayed above her, where it had been comfortably riding along to Hogwarts, while the rest of her body plummeted toward the earth. This time the wind whipped powerfully around her, throwing her hair and clothing up. Through the roar, she heard Kingsley, who was mercifully trained for emergency situations, shout something she didn't understand. She knew, through some bizarre sixth sense, that he was falling as well and for the first time was glad that he was with her.

That was her last thought before she hit the ground. 

*

Ginny woke up to pounding. Falling from the sky was not easy business. It hurt. She felt like several of her limbs would never be the same. Her head ached something fierce and she felt like the ground was quaking beneath her. It wasn't until she looked up, and found herself face to – er – hoof with a very angry looking centaur that she realized the pounding had not, in fact, been in her head. 

"Speak!" the angry half-man demanded. 

"Something attacked us," Ginny warbled, "We fell."

"Not you, foal!" It shouted. 

She bristled. She didn't like being yelled at and she certainly didn't like being called a foal. She rubbed her bruised legs and grumbled about adding insult to injury while Kingsley spoke on their behalf. 

"It was as she said," Kingsley answered, with as much politeness as possible given how sore he was, "I was escorting Miss Weasley," he gestured to Ginny, "to Hogwarts where she would be safe under Dumbledore's watch." 

The centaur roared incoherently and reared up on its hind legs. It was an imposing sight. 

Ginny really wished he hadn't mentioned Dumbledore's name. Of course, she hadn't had time to tell him that the centaurs were enraged at Dumbledore for hiring Firenze as the Divination professor or that they had nearly killed a woman in this very forest only a few weeks ago, when Hermione had brought Professor Umbridge here. 

"I suppose you work for the Ministry of Magic as well!" the centaur raged. 

Realizing he had said something wrong, Kingsley only nodded, fear in his eyes but trying not to let it show, "I do." 

"This is our forest!" he cried. "Any human who sets foot on our land has forfeited his life!" 

Ginny had never met someone so angry. The only centaur she had encountered previous was Firenze, who was no doubt the reason for this centaur's rage. Firenze wasn't like him at all. He was smart, very rational, but he was also preoccupied sometimes even dreamy in his manner. He never seemed like the type of creature that would hurt anyone. She had no doubt that this centaur was capable of horrible things. She turned to search for her broom, silently begging for a way out of the forest and away from the angry centaur. But she found it difficult to locate a stick of wood in such a large forest.

When she glanced back at where the other two were, she saw Kingsley go for his wand. The centaur reacted immediately, as though he had been struck. He took the wand as not only an affront to all centaurs, but as an act of aggression. "You dare draw on me!" he shouted, and kicked out at Kingsley's face with his front hoofs. 

The blood splattered all the way to where Ginny lay crouched in terror. She saw the red mix and sink into the brown dirt of the forest floor and disappear as she heard another crunch. This time he had hit Kingsley in his arm, where he held his wand. The wand flew from the wizard's grasp and into the dark shadows of trees. 

Ginny heard herself cry out when the next hoof landed on Kingsley's chest, knocking him down flat. The centaur didn't appear to be bothered by her sobs only a meter or less away. 

Kingsley's eyes were wide in shock and fear as all four hoofs came pounding into his chest. He convulsed at the strength of the blow almost comically, like Ginny's brothers did when they were mock-fighting. It took a few more hits for the blood to appear. It sank down into the ground but this time did not disappear. It pooled there, staining everything around it that terrible crimson color. 

The sobs and bile rose in Ginny's throat. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the images in front of her, only to find them tattooed on the inside of her eyelids. Red and brown. Everything red and brown. She could smell the gore, heavy like hot perfume and she heard the crushing of bones along with the shouts of pain and fury. It was as though the whole forest had gone quiet so she could hear everything with perfectly clarity. She wanted to scream but was too afraid to make a noise, lest the centaur turn on her as well.

When there was silence in the clearing once again, Ginny ventured to open her eyes. Kingsley's body lay trampled-- in every sense of the word-- not far from the centaur. He was looking at her, suddenly even more imposing than he had been before. She watched him rear, his hoofs thrashing only inches from her face, and she thought it was the end. For that moment, she wished she were dead. She wanted to get it over with quickly rather than spend another second in this horrible place. 

But when she opened her eyes, the centaur was no longer thrashing. His eyes, a mixture of shock and pain, were fixed on hers. It was then she noticed the spot of red on his chest. It hadn't been there before, she realized. It was where his heart would have been and seemed to be growing bigger by the moment. The spot trickled down his torso to his horse-legs and to the ground, where it turned the same color as Kingsley's blood. And then, the centaur fell. The ground underneath Ginny shook with his weight. She stared, disbelieving, his eyes still staring at her and at the arrow protruding from his back, its vibrant blue feathers standing proudly as they did when an arrow hit its mark. 

Ginny couldn't quite believe that she was not dead and somehow _he was._ She let out a chocked half-sob, half-cry, not knowing whether to be happy for frightened. 

A woman leapt down from her perch in a nearby tree. No one had noticed her, not Ginny or Kingsley, or the centaur had noticed her until she chose to reveal herself. From her sitting position on the cold ground, Ginny could only marvel at the height of the woman, who carried a longbow and an arrow, with blue feathers in her hand. 

"Are you hurt?" the woman asked. Ginny was surprised to hear concern in her voice rather than coldness. She had been taught to always fear the inhabitants of this forest. 

"No," lied Ginny, "well, a little. It was a long way down." 

"I saw you fall," said the woman. "I am surprised you lived for Magorian to confront you." 

Ginny looked over at what was left of the body of Kingsley and felt tears welling up in her eyes. The woman, on the other hand, seemed entirely unconcerned. "Come with me," she said, "we can heal your wounds." 

Mutely, she attempted to rise. She wanted badly to get away from this place and lick her wounds. Her legs were still throbbing. She was surprised that she could stand, and nothing seemed broken. The woman smiled a grim smile, pleased as well. 

They walked a little way in silence. Ginny stumbled often, trying to keep up with the woman's long-legged strides. Her legs didn't want to do what she told them. The woman stepped lightly, with a grace that Ginny hadn't thought was possible. She tried to mimic the woman's steps and not show her injuries, not wanting to show her weakness in front of this woman for some reason she couldn't pinpoint. 

"I'm Priene," said the woman after they had traveled a ways without conversation. 

"Oh," said Ginny, unsure of herself. "I am Ginny Weasley." Then she got up the courage to ask: "Where are we going?" 

"To Otrera," replied Priene simply, as if Ginny should know who or what Otrera was. Not wanting to disappoint, Ginny only nodded. 

The forest was nearly as quiet as the two women. There were no howls from werewolves or any more thunder from centaur hoofs. Ginny was grateful for small mercies. Even with her tall companion, she wasn't ready to face the evils of the forest tonight. 

The forest was black. She couldn't see more than a few steps in front of her. Priene had no difficulty navigating, and Ginny was content to merely follow in her footsteps. She was certain, even without knowing which direction they were heading, that they were heading deeper into the forest rather than out of it. It made Ginny wonder what type of creature this woman was. She seemed human. She spoke English. But there were subtle differences. For one thing, she was taller than any witch Ginny knew. The clothes she wore were not like any robes Madam Malkin's sold. She had a green tunic, cut raggedly at the knees, that was held on by a strip of brown leather that could only be described as a girdle. Her hair fell messily around her shoulder blades. It looked as thought it had never been properly cut and had simply been allowed to grow for years. 

Thought she was much bigger, Ginny got the sense that Priene was not much older than she. As they continued their walk, it became apparent that she was less confident of herself than she had appeared to be in the clearing. She held her bow tightly, and dark eyes darted back and forth, looking for possible danger. It made Ginny feel much better to know the other woman was nervous as well. She seemed much less imposing, and more like a rescuer than a captor. 

Priene held out her arm to stop Ginny. "We must stop here," she murmured so softly she could barely hear. "There were Acromantula hunting here earlier. We do not want to be caught by them." 

Ginny was reminded of the hair-raising tale her brother Ron had told her, when he had nearly been eaten by an Acromantula named Aragog in this very forest. She gulped and nodded her assent. Spiders were not her greatest fear, as they were Ron's, but she didn't want to encounter any giant ones in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. 

The pair lay in wait and listened. Ginny drew her wand, knowing she was allowed to use magic to protect herself if necessary. Likewise, Priene strung her bow. They didn't hear any scuttling feet or see any movement in the shadows. Ginny breathed a deep sigh of relief, but Priene didn't seem satisfied. She pointed her bow upwards, toward the canopy, and let the arrow sing. Rather than fall to the ground, it stuck, caught in invisible threads woven between the trees. 

Moments later there was a noise, a horrible scratching noise that made Ginny's already weak stomach turn. She saw only the vague outline of a massive creature with many legs. She looked to Priene, wondering what they should do. The other woman reached behind her back and pulled another blue-feathered arrow from the air. Ginny didn't have time to marvel how she had no quiver and had managed to make the arrow appear from nothing,  only enough time to watch as the arrow was strung and hit its target. From the way the creature screamed before it fell to the ground, its legs curling above it, Ginny guessed it had been hit in the head, maybe even the eyes. How Priene could see where its head was in the dark, she didn't know. 

"Come," said Priene, with quiet intensity, "there was only one, but there will be more now that the web has been disturbed." Ginny did not need telling twice. 

The ran through the forest now, Priene's feet were light as always but Ginny could hear the thumping of her own as they struck tree roots and solid ground. She was frightened of tripping, moving so quickly in unknown territory. As if she knew what Ginny was thinking, Priene reached out and took her arm, guiding her path and steadying her when she stumbled. 

"The quicker we make it to Otrera the better. They will not follow us there. They know better," she called out. Ginny nodded. She didn't know why; Priene wasn't looking in her direction. 

She imagined hairy legs crawling all over her body and shuddered. She knew it was just her imagination; the spiders had not caught up with them but the thought gave her chills down her spine and crawling skin just the same. She couldn't have been more relieved when, after running for a few more minutes, she saw a patch of light up ahead. Priene relaxed the hold on her arm and Ginny knew that they had reached their destination.

*

It wasn't a village. It was more like a gathering of people, lumps of old blankets and a fire in the middle. There were several women there, all dressed like Priene. More jumped down from the trees when they saw the odd pair approach. They looked at Ginny with shrewd, piercing eyes. She was very conscious of how much shorter she was than all of these women, how oddly her jeans and jumper looked compared to their tunics, and the fact that she carried a wand, not a bow and arrow. 

"Who have you brought here, Priene?" demanded one woman with stormy, dark eyes, her arms folded across her chest. 

Priene seemed to lose height under the gaze of the other women. "Her name is Ginny. She was attacked by centaurs." 

A ripple of whispers went through the crowd. They all knew about the centaurs vow to kill humans who ventured into the forest. They also knew that the centaurs had promised not to attack young girls, like the one who stood next to their sister, Priene. That still didn't explain what the girl was doing in _Otrera_ though. 

"What happened?" asked the dark-eyed woman, with a little more sympathy. 

Priene shifted nervously where she stood, the way Ginny was sure she did when her mother or Professor McGonagall admonished her. "I slew Magorian," she admitted, without looking into the other woman's flashing eyes. 

The crowd gasped. "Priene!" shouted one woman. 

"He violated our trust! He attacked a "foal" without reason!" cried Priene defensively. "I had just cause." Some of the women nodded; others continued to stare at her stonily. "Harmonthe…" she pleaded with the dark-eyed woman. 

"I will speak to the centaurs," said Harmonthe, "but it may cause trouble between us." 

Priene nodded, and looked at her feet again. Harmonthe turned to Ginny. "Welcome, Ginny. You will have to stay here in Otrera, until this matter is resolved." 

Ginny opened her mouth to protest. Her mum would be sick with worry when she didn't turn up at Hogwarts. Didn't they realize she had to get going soon? Perhaps they wanted to wait for morning? Would it be safer then? Ginny didn't know, but she certainly wouldn't be leaving the glen without the protection of Priene and the other women. It was dangerous and she didn't know the way. 

The crowd began to disperse. They all shot backwards glances at Ginny as they leapt back up into their trees or went about their business. Only Priene was left standing with her at the edge of the glen. The other girl smiled a wry smile. "Welcome to Otrera," she said. She held out her hand, gesturing to the camp fire and few small dwellings. "It isn't much compared to your castle. I've seen it from a distance. How did you get all of those rocks to stay in one place?" she asked, her voice alight with wonder. 

Ginny giggled. "I dunno. I wasn't the one who built it." 

"Oh," said Priene, deflated a little. 

"I will ask Professor Dumbledore if you'd like…" 

Priene grinned, a wide, toothy grin that looked oddly foolish on her somber face. 

* 

Priene waved Ginny forward. "This is where we sleep," she said proudly. 

"It's lovely," lied Ginny, eyeing the mass of musty, old blankets lying around the center fire pit. Even when she and her brothers had gone camping (that is to say, decided to go sleep outside one night while their mum kept a careful eye on them from the house) they'd had better accommodations. 

The large fire pit, circled with white stones was the main focus of Otrera. Everything else revolved around it. There was wood, for burning and for making bows and arrows and a few stumps to sit and do work by the firelight. 

"You can sleep here," she pulled up some blankets in a sort of nest shape. 

"Thank you," said Ginny earnestly, "for everything." 

Priene looked away. "Don't worry. I'm just glad I was there. You could have been gravely injured." 

"So, er, did you see what shot us – me – down?" Ginny asked, voicing for the first time something that had been nagging at her since she had woken up on the cold forest floor. 

"No," replied Priene matter-of-factly. Again, she looked away. "I don't know what it was." 

There was a brief uncomfortable silence in which Priene reached down to fiddle with the old blankets and refused to look Ginny in the eye. Ginny shifted from one foot to the other, thinking. She believed Priene. She had no reason to doubt her. But somehow she thought there was something she wasn't being told. Priene was starting to remind her of her mother. 

"Oh," Ginny said at last. "Can I ask something? I mean – I don't want to be rude." 

"What is it?" Priene asked, looking at Ginny with concerned and interested features. 

"I've read about… in books… I didn't think they – you – were real…" She bit her lip, gauging the other girl's reaction. "Are you _Amazons?_" 

"Oh!" cried Priene, appearing somewhat relieved that this was the question. "Yes. We are." 

Ginny took a moment to process her new information. Amazons weren't like Ginny had imagined them at all. She had read a book once, and in the pictures the Amazons had dressed in outfits that looked like bathing suits. She only remembered because her brothers had "borrowed" the book from her once they had seen the illustrations. The women had been bursting out of their tops in a most distracting way. A red-faced Molly Weasley had finally taken the book away from all of them. 

These Amazons didn't wear bathing suits. They wore loose fitting tunics that didn't show their figures at all. It gave them all an androgynous look. And their unkempt hair didn't do anything for them. Ginny, who didn't wear makeup or style her hair, felt quite girly in comparison. She couldn't imagine what Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil would think of them. They'd probably die of shock. 

She realized Priene was staring at her, and blushed. "You're not what I expected." 

Priene smiled. "Good. We don't want to be predictable." 

"I've never heard of Amazons living in the Forest before," Ginny observed, curiously. 

"We haven't been here long," replied Priene, her mouth pulled tautly downward into a frown. She didn't offer any more explanation than that and instead went back to fidgeting with the blankets. 

*

Laying in her "bed" that night, Ginny thought of her Mum. It wouldn't be long before word that Ginny never arrived at Hogwarts reached the Burrow. She could only imagine the looks on the faces of her family members. She remembered watching her Mum sob into her hands as Harry and Ron led her to Professor Dumbledore's office at the end of her first year. She had never seen her Mum look like that. It was enough to make Ginny want to rush out into the forest, racing toward the castle with twigs   cracking underneath her steps. 

Leaving now, shunning the Amazons' hospitality and challenging the centaurs' vow to kill her, was more than just foolish. It was suicide. And there were more than just centaurs to be afraid of. 

Kingsley was dead. She wanted to cry – a lot. But she couldn't. Not right now. There were too many other things to be preoccupied with right now. Would the centaurs be angry with Priene for killing one of their kind? What was Harmonthe going to say to them tomorrow? She could only assume that the centaur had been the one to shoot her down earlier. Thought she didn't know how or why nor could she explain the strange heat she felt just before she fell or how a centaur had managed to magic a broomstick many meters from the ground. 

She didn't know what was going to happen to her. None of this was familiar territory and she wasn't sure how to react. 

The stars were out. She could remember most of the constellation names from Astronomy class and many more from what Firenze had taught her in Divination. The centaurs were always looking to the sky, weren't they? Only a few hours ago she and Kingsley had been up in that very sky, flying along, completely oblivious to any danger around them. Now Kingsley was dead. And she was in an Amazon camp, surrounded by dozens of other sleeping girls, looking at the sky and listening to yet another Amazon on watch prowling in the trees above her. 

She thought they probably had the right idea. There were a lot of things to look out for. 


	2. Ritual and Sacrifice

**Disclaim:** I disclaim all except my Amazons. And you can even have them if you want. 

**Notes:** I intended to get this chapter out much sooner but I failed. I am a horrible writer. Hopefully writing the next one will go better. Big thanks to Fearthainn and w&m_law for looking over this even if they don't like my commas! 

*

Sisters of War – Chapter II

_Ritual and Sacrifice_

*

          Ginny was wide awake as the Amazons prepared to parlay with the centaurs, though not for lack of sleepiness. Ginny couldn't sleep on her cold earthen bed. It was nothing like the fluffy mattress and duvet she had at home, or the luxurious four-poster she slept in while at Hogwarts. She was certain the rocks in the forest had some sort of agreement to congregate under her blanket. She swore she felt one digging into her no matter which way she rolled or turned. 

          She thought about Kingsley while she lay there. His body was still out there, rotting. She imagined his skin sagging. She wondered if he had a family who wouldn't get the chance to give him a proper burial. Did he have a Mum who was worried sick about him, like hers surely was? 

          She was glad to focus on what the other women were doing instead. They were all dressed and ready at the crack of dawn, spoke in hushed voices the way her mother and friends did when they didn't want the children to hear what they were saying. They all seemed busy and walked around Otrera with purposeful, long strides, giving Ginny the impression that she was not to interfere with whatever it was they were up to. She thought of the previous summer, when her mother and father had been embroiled in important Order business. Some things never changed no matter where you went. 

Ginny did not feel invited to join in whatever it was they were doing. Instead she stayed under the cover of her blankets and pretended to be dozing, so she could listen to what they were saying without being part of it. Harmonthe, the older girl who had greeted her and Priene on their arrival yesterday, was standing in the center of a gaggle of other women. She was wearing white, making her stand out from the others in their usual earth tones. 

"You need jewelry," announced Priene, sizing up the outfit Harmonthe was wearing. 

"We haven't any," replied Harmonthe sternly. 

"—Mother always wore jewelry," protested Priene.

"Mother isn't here," said Harmonthe peevishly. Ginny saw Priene make a face like a wounded animal. Then in a flash, it was gone behind the warrior façade. "We must make do with what we have," added Harmonthe who had seen it too. 

The other women huddled around Harmonthe and fiddled with her appearance. They applied white paint to her arms and legs and tied up her hair in a manner which reminded Ginny of the girl's dormitory at Hogwarts. Priene, who had been engrossed in helping only moments earlier, quietly excused herself and wandered away from the camp. 

          Ginny frowned. It was obvious that something was troubling her friend; she just didn't know what it was. Nor did she feel it was her place to go comfort the other girl. 

"Do not worry about Priene," another Amazon said to Harmonthe. "Focus on the task at hand. Everything will be fine here."

Harmonthe stared ahead stonily, barely acknowledging that the other woman had spoken. 

"She is young," continued the Amazon, as if that explained everything. 

          "Not so young anymore, Thalestris. Almost--" 

          Ginny perked her ears up in an effort to hear what it was Harmonthe was about to say. For some reason, it struck her as important. She wanted some explanations for everyone's behavior, but had yet to find any. 

          "You are not asleep, you!" cried a voice, causing Ginny to start. "Not fooling anyone!"

          She turned over, knotting the blankets up between her legs, to find herself looking at an aged Amazon with a kindly face. She laughed like there was some extremely funny joke passing between them. No one else turned around to look, as Ginny feared they would. 

          The woman cackled and turned her attention to a long, thin piece of wood she held in her hands. 

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, curious. 

"Making new bows. We lost too many in the war," she said flippantly. 

Ginny eyed her shrewdly. "You were at war." 

"We are often at war," said the woman. Her voice was weary in a way that made Ginny understand that it was true. 

"Here in the forest?" she wondered, thinking Dumbledore might have said something. The students might have wandered off into the forest, like Ron and Harry had. She supposed that might be why it was forbidden.

The woman laughed. "Of course not. We've only just got here." 

"Oh," said Ginny, remembering, "Priene said you haven't been here long."

"Yes, and now you know why we relocated…" laughed the woman. She thought for a moment and then said: "You're very good at discovering information for someone who is asleep." 

Ginny flushed and asked her no more questions. The other Amazons were still preparing Harmonthe for her journey. Ginny supposed it was more of a political journey. The forest couldn't be that big, could it? Ginny lay in wait and listened, but heard no more bits of hinted information. 

 After a few more instructions from the other women and a bit more body paint, Harmonthe finally exited without ceremony. She just walked and kept walking until she disappeared into the trees where Ginny could not see her anymore. Then the other women returned to their daily business, leaving Ginny and the old woman as the only two still around the long-dead fire. 

The moment everyone dispersed, Ginny threw off her blankets and headed in the direction which Priene had gone. It didn't take long to find her at all. She was not far from the camp, making a great deal of noise. She was standing several meters from a large, gnarled tree and shooting arrows at a knot in the center of it. She grunted with effort each time she fired an arrow. 

Priene heard her approach. "Harmonthe has gone to speak with the centaurs," she said in a businesslike manner without looking up. "They are hard folk to speak with. I fear you may be here forever.

"Oh," said Ginny. My mother will be furious, she thought but said nothing of mothers after what she had overheard.

Priene let another arrow sing. It hit its mark – the dead center of the knot.  "You're good at that," observed Ginny, trying to be as casual as Priene.

"We all must be," replied Priene. She drew another arrow from her invisible quiver, which Ginny had seen – or rather not seen – last night. "It's how we defend ourselves."

"How do you do that?" Ginny asked. 

"Oh," exclaimed Priene. For the first time she turned to look Ginny in the eye. "We Amazons have our own limited magic. Harmonthe explained it to me once. The tribe puts its collective abilities together and places a large store of arrows in a place easily accessible by magic. We reach in and take them when necessary." 

Ginny thought about it for a moment. "I suppose you could do a spell like the ones we use to communicate in fires. So your head appears in the fireplace of the person you wish to speak with." 

Priene shrugged. "I know very little of these matters; I do not know how the spell works. Only that it does.  Quite useful in battle; you never run out of arrows." 

Ginny cocked her head to the side. She remained silent for a few minutes, choosing instead to observe her new friend. Priene could reach for an arrow, load it into her bow and fire it in one motion so fluid it was hard to catch it all with the human eye. All of Priene's arrows hat hit their target in the knot. Ginny doubted he could ever shoot like that, even if she had been doing it since she was a girl. 

"Shooting is the first thing we learn, after walking and speaking," said Priene, reading the look on Ginny's face. "Would you like to try?"

"Oh no," exclaimed Ginny. "I couldn't. It'd only make a fool of myself." 

"If you're going to stay here, you're going to have to learn eventually. If not from me then from one of my sisters." 

          "Are they all your sisters?" asked Ginny, "I mean, _real _sisters?" She was slightly jealous at the thought. She had always wanted a sister. 

          Priene laughed. "No, we're not all related," she said. "But they're as good as real sisters. Harmonthe is my "real" sister. She thinks she's my mother," she added ruefully. 

          Ginny sighed. "I wish I had a sister. I only have brothers."

          "Ooh," exclaimed Priene. "I have a brother!" 

          Ginny's eyes widened. She hadn't seen any men around here. Quickly, she checked again. No, there were no men; just women milling around and doing their tasks. 

          "He lives in Hogsmeade," Priene explained wistfully, "with his father… _our _father," she corrected herself. Ginny wondered for a moment what had happened to Priene and Harmonthe's mother. Priene hadn't mentioned one. But then it only took one look at the many weapons being prepared by the women circling the fire pit to remember where she must be. 

          "I saw him once," said Priene proudly, "my brother." 

          "Oh…" Ginny only gaped. She couldn't even imagine not growing up with her brothers constantly at her side. Who would tease her and pull her hair? Who would she go to if she had nightmares?  These were the type of girls who had to deal with their own nightmares, daily. 

          "Do you live with your brothers?" the other girl asked. "I heard… wizards…" 

          Ginny nodded and Priene looked sad. Almost immediately, her expression return to that of the warrior. "Here," she said, reaching out for Ginny. "I'll show you how to shoot…" 

*

          Shooting a bow was as difficult as Ginny expected it to be. Somehow she always managed to put her hands in the wrong place or shoot only a few meters from where she stood. Priene was patient with her, correcting her stance and going through the motions again, as though she were a child. 

          "It takes time," she said, "Time is the best teacher. You can learn anything if you practice enough." 

          Ginny blushed, feeling patronized. She wished they could just go back to the camp now. She didn't want to give it more time. She wanted to quit and go back to school. She'd never need to use a bow anyhow. She had her wand. Wands, she decided, were much easier to use than a bow. 

          Priene frowned, seeing Ginny's face. "I'm not just saying that. My mother said the same thing to me when I was learning."

          "I'm sure you were much better…" replied Ginny, self-conscious. 

          "No one is good when they begin," said Priene. "Just shoot it one more time and then we can go back…" 

* 

          Living at camp wasn't as bad as Ginny expected it to be. She ate regularly, though sometimes she didn't have the heart to ask what it was she was consuming. And after long days of trekking after Priene in the forest, she was tired enough to sleep soundly even if there were boulders sticking into her shoulders. The thing she missed most was toilets. She had never realized what a wonderful, magical invention they were before. 

          Shooting remained out of her grasp, but Priene kept encouraging her with the air of an elementary school teacher. The bows the Amazons carried were becoming slightly less frightening though. Now they were daunting in a different way. Ginny didn't have her own bow, which was fine with her. She always kept her wand handy, in case she met some unpleasant denizen of the forest. That never happened – the Amazons kept careful watch over her. 

          They were a fiercely protective lot. For some reason, they seemed to take their job of protecting her to heart. Every Amazon she came in contact with had at least one eye on her constantly. In the case of Priene, it was usually two.  

          Priene turned out to be the chatty sort, which Ginny wouldn't have expected from their first encounter. She was always asking questions about how wizards lived in a way that reminded Ginny of her father and Muggles. The other Amazons were not always inclined to speak to Ginny, even if they were watching her. She wasn't sure if they were being rude or were just busy all the time. Otrera turned out to be a place that was always bustling, which Ginny wouldn't have guessed when she first spied the Spartan camp. Each Amazon was assigned to various chores each day. Some went out in hunting parties to feed the camp, others stayed behind and built bows and arrows by the fire, while still others were assigned to keep watch over the camp. 

She noticed, a few days into her stay, that Priene never had chores to do. At first she thought it was because of her. Because she was babysitting. But as the days wore on, she began to doubt it. The Amazons went about their business as usual, barely acknowledging her presence. 

          "Why do you never go on watch?" Ginny finally asked one morning, when the curiosity had overcome her. The other women all had daily shifts when it was their duty to watch the camp and alert the others to approaching danger. 

          Priene blushed. "It's ceremonial really…" she muttered. "I could do it." 

          Ginny cocked her said to the side, wondering if she had missed something the other girl had said. 

          "I'm not 'of age' yet," Priene explained at last. "I'm not a fully initiated Amazon like everyone else. But I can shoot and hunt just as well as any of them," she added boastfully, "They all know that. It's only a matter of time. I can't wait."

          "So is there like a rite of passage or something?" Ginny wondered. 

          Priene nodded. "If you're lucky, you might be here for it," she said with a grin, but wouldn't reveal any further details even when pressed. 

*

                    As luck would have it, Ginny was in Otrera for Priene's 'ceremony.' Priene even insisted that Ginny could stay for the whole of it. She said they were friends now, and she wanted Ginny to see it. Ginny felt quite honored that she was allowed to be there at all, rather like her dad did when he was allowed to play with Muggle items at work. He'd come home, red-faced with excitement and try to explain to her mum the wonder which he had seen. But it was never the same if you weren't there to see it in person. It was just a tale. 

          Ginny didn't know what to expect. She pictured, in her head, some sort of ritual performed in the dark of night -- women covered in colorful body paint, dancing wildly to the beat of loud drums. Or perhaps Priene would have to pass some sort of test. Perhaps that was why she was always practicing with her bow? 

          It was dark out – not yet dawn -- when Ginny felt stirrings around her. Still half-asleep, rolled onto her side and observed several Amazons up and about. Immediately her mind went to the worst. Were the centaurs enraged? Had there been some altercation while she slept?

          Priene was gone from the spot where she slept, causing Ginny to begin to fret. It took several minutes for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, she noticed her friend, looking slightly green, at the edge of the clearing. An older Amazon was speaking with her with a self-important manner. Ginny couldn't make out what they were saying. She had never seen Priene so nervous before. 

          "What's going on?" Ginny asked when one of the women happened by her. 

          The Amazon whirled around to look at her, a bit shocked. Ginny hadn't really spoken to any of them since she had been in Otrera. 

          "The watch has spotted Re'em in the area," she replied as if that made perfect sense. 

          Ginny frowned. She had read about Re'em in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _for school. They were dangerous creatures but she had never known the Amazons to get worked up about dwelling near frightening creatures. After all, they made their home between acromantula and giants. 

          The Amazon quickly went about her business, preventing Ginny from asking any further questions. She realized that if she wanted answers she would have to speak with Priene – the only person who seemed inclined to explain things to her. But Priene was still engaged with the older Amazon, and Ginny didn't feel it was her place to interrupt. 

          She hovered around the fire, watching the comings and goings with mounting dismay. It was clear they were preparing to go on a hunt. The women were armed even more fearsomely than usual. No one laughed. They all looked grave and thoughtful. Some looked nervous, and kept throwing looks over their shoulders to Priene and the old Amazon. 

          When Priene detangled herself from the other woman, Ginny pounced on her friend. She didn't look well at all. "What's going on? I heard there were Re'em," asked Ginny. 

          Priene blanched. "Yes. Erm – it's time… For me… for the ceremony I told you about." 

          "Oh!" exclaimed Ginny, suddenly understanding why acting the way she was. She felt a huge swell of compassion and pride for her friend. "You'll do great!" 

          "I didn't think it would be so soon…" said Priene. "I thought…" 

          "But you're ready, right? You've been ready for years!" cried Ginny, encouragingly. "Do you have to hunt the Re'em?" 

          Priene nodded. 

          "Well that's no worry! You're a great hunter!" Ginny flashed her friend a huge grin. The anxiousness she had felt earlier was gone completely. Now that she knew nothing was wrong, she was certain it would be a great day. 

          "Er – Thank you," said Priene. "That's not all of it. There's the actual ceremony afterwards…" 

          Ginny clapped her on the back. "Don't be so nervous. You'll be fine. You taught me how to shoot a bow. This can't be more difficult that that!" 

          Priene managed an uneasy smile. "Thank you, Ginny," she said earnestly. "I'm glad you're here." 

          That was the last thing Priene got to say before the other women swept her away. 

*

          After that, Ginny couldn't go back to sleep. She was nervous for her friend. Re'em, they had said. All she could think about were mauled. Ginny paced and wrung her hands. She had a talent for worrying. She got it from her mother. 

          The other women at camp were no help to her. They went about their daily business with sullen, worried faces. The only Amazons left didn't look happy about it. It was an odd sort of thing. While Ginny was nervous for her friend, she was more than happy to be out of harm's way herself. These women all wanted to be in the thick of it, giving chase to treacherous quarry. 

          And none of the women seemed inclined to talk about what was happening. Ginny paced Otrera all morning and the only Amazon who said anything was Bremusa, the elderly Amazon who had spoken to her the first day, and that was just to get her to quit pacing. 

          "Stop that," she commanded. "You won't like me when I'm seasick." 

          So Ginny was forced to go to the tree she and Priene always practiced shooting at. Ginny still couldn't hit it from more than a few feet. She liked practicing without Priene there though. She could be horrible in private. She always felt self-conscious in the other girl's presence. 

          What she did miss was the companionship; after a few hours, Ginny was bored again. She wished she had someone to talk to. It occurred to her that she had never really made friends with any of the other Amazons besides Priene. The rest of them were strangers to her, and without Priene she felt wholly out of place.  

          Mercifully, at noontime she heard a cry from the trees: "They're returning!" cried an Amazon from the trees. In response, everyone in Otrera jumped up to ready themselves. There was an excited buzz among the women. 

          "So soon!" exclaimed one. "I knew she would do well."

          "Fastest I can remember any Amazon completing the Re'em hunt."

          Ginny smiled, proud of her friend. She made a mental note of the other women's praise and vowed to tell Priene later. 

*

          Ginny barely recognized Priene when she emerged from the cover of trees. Her skin was smeared with what appeared to be red paint. Her long hair was loose and wild. And her eyes – her eyes startled Ginny – they were dazed and confused, like she didn't recognize her friends or home. 

          Another Amazon reached and took Priene's hand, leading her like a child toward the fire pit in the center of the camp. In front of the flames, the Amazon urged Priene down onto her side. Priene lay on the dirt as though she had been awake for thousands of hours and was finally able to sleep. Her eyes fluttered closed, then open again to watch with the other Amazons around her with bored detachment. 

          The other Amazons crowded around, dropping whatever it was they were doing to watch the proceedings. Some of them hung out of trees to get a good view. Ginny hung back; she was able to see through a gap made by two other Amazons. They were much too tall to see over. Every now and then one of them would shift their position and block Ginny's view. But as the ritual began, she was able to see most everything. 

          Priene began to look greenish, like she was going to be sick where she lay. The Amazon that had coached her onto her side, turned her back to Ginny to prepare something. She was a tall blonde with a large scar that ran from the back of her shin, up her leg to the front of her thigh. Ginny couldn't image what kind of creature had done that. And she didn't want to. The Amazon was putting something in the fire. Ginny couldn't see what. She hoped it was medicine for her sick-looking friend. 

          When the blonde Amazon turned around, she had a long, jagged dagger in her hand. It was still red hot from the flames. Ginny winced when she saw it, imagining what the sharp point would feel like against her skin. Once she had cut herself on one of her mother's knives at home, it stung when it grazed her hand so much that she thought her hand would fall off. And this dagger was bigger than anything her Mum owned. 

          The Amazons around her were silent, as was the blonde one in the middle. Somehow, Ginny always imagined "rituals" to have lots of chanting and singing, or at least some invocations and spells. But throughout the entire ceremony, the Amazons were deathly quiet, like someone had put a spell on them and speaking would break it. 

          The blonde Amazon knelt down next to Priene, whose eyes fell upon the dagger. She stared at the dagger for a long time, her eyes focusing with effort. Ginny noticed something meaningful in the way she stared at the knife but she didn't have time to wonder what it meant. The next instant, the blonde Amazon leaned over and undid Priene's tunic, exposing her chest. 

          Ginny started. She looked around at the faces of the other women to see if this was supposed to be happening. They all kept their faces turned toward Priene's uncovered breasts like they were trees or rocks or some other commonplace item. Ginny felt slightly foolish for being embarrassed and reminded herself that this was a different culture and they did things differently. 

          That was the thought that was hovering in her head as the blonde Amazon brought the knife down to meet Priene's right breast. There was a brief instant when it poked the flesh and nothing happened, then red came gushing out from the breast like it had popped.  Ginny nearly screamed when she saw the blood spurt from her friend. The scream caught in her throat when pink fleshy tissue uncovered and the blonde Amazon bring the knife down again to hack it off the body. 

          Ginny wanted to cover her eyes with her hand but she found her hands were just as frightened as the rest of her and they would not move. All the while blood continued to pour from Priene's wound. It mixed on her body with what Ginny had thought was red paint. The same color exactly. Now she was sure that it was not paint. 

          By the time all the tissue was removed, tears were streaming from Ginny's eyes. For whatever reason, they only removed one breast – the right one – which was lucky because Ginny was certain Priene couldn't stand to lose any more blood. 

          The blonde Amazon stood from her crouching position and fetched a sack filled with a liquid. Ginny could tell it was liquid from the way it moved in her hands. Two more Amazons rushed forward and propped the delirious Priene up. The blonde one put the sack to Priene's mouth. Red rivulets ran down from the corner of her lips. More blood, Ginny thought. She now felt like she was going to be sick. 

          Once she had drank, they bundled Priene up in a thick, woolly blanket and sat her upright. Only then did the congregation of Amazons begin to disperse. 

          The ritual was over. 

*

          Priene didn't wake that night. The other Amazons kept watch over her, to make sure she didn't lose too much blood. Ginny sat across the fire from her friend's sleeping form and watched diligently. 

          She kept her arms folded across her chest the entire time. 

*

          Ginny was roused out of a deep sleep the next morning by Priene herself. The other girl was dressed normally and smiled as if everything was wonderful. "Would you like to go shooting?" she asked, as she would have any other day. 

          Ginny felt her eyes continually drawn toward Priene's chest as they tramped through the forest. There was nothing to see, of course, and that was what bothered her. It was like the negative space was calling to her, demanding to be looked at. Sometimes she felt that if she looked – really looked – then maybe it would be there, just as it had been all the days before. But it wasn't the type of thing you could just grow back in a day, and everything remained as it had been. 

          Priene was not made to go on watch or on the hunt the next day. She was allowed to stay at Otrera and recuperate, which was, as far as Ginny was concerned, the only part of the whole ritual that made any sense at all. Priene, of course, wanted to go on watch the first chance she got and practically had to be forcibly held in Otrera. Ginny was certain that she was insane-- that they were all insane and kept her arms neatly folded across her chest defensively. 

          She had been biting her tongue all this time. 

          "I don't wish to cause trouble. You've been nothing but nice to me. But I feel it is my duty to inform you that you're mad. You're all bloody mad." 

          To her shock, Priene didn't yell. She laughed. She laughed loud enough to cause all the other women to turn and look with frowning faces at whoever was making such a racket. 

          "You are!" protested Ginny, red-faced. 

          "So are you," countered Priene. 

          "I am not!" cried Ginny. "I don't – cut off – _things_." 

          Again Priene laughed. Ginny feared she would fall over and hurt herself, already vulnerable from the ordeal the night before. 

          "I've seen you wizards," shrieked Priene, "flying about on those sticks. I've seen you fall from eight meters in the air, practically kill yourself over a little ball." 

          "What's that got to do with anything?" sputtered Ginny. "That's just a game!" 

          "Exactly," said Priene, eyes twinkling. "And this is my life and my livelihood. And I can nearly kill myself if I want to." She flashed a triumphant grin. "So there." 

          "Doesn't it hurt?" she asked, gob smacked. 

          Priene only shrugged. "A little, I guess. But I can't wait to get shooting. It's supposed to help your aim immensely." She grinned madly. "It's necessary, you know. If you want to be an Amazon…" 

* 

          Ginny was glad she wasn't an Amazon. She enjoyed her time in Otrera; it was a nice place to visit. But she wouldn't want to live there. She began to turn her eyes towards the trees, waiting for Harmonthe to appear. When she had left, Ginny assumed it would only be a day, two at the most before she returned. Priene had to explain to her that centaurs were hard creatures to talk to, especially when they were angry. 

          So when Amazons dropped out of the trees and announced Harmonthe's coming, Ginny had long been ready for their arrival. "Too bad she couldn't have returned earlier!" exclaimed Ginny, then she added sheepishly. "She could've been here… for… you know. The ceremony." She grimaced. 

          Priene grinned. "She'll be so surprised!" she cried, sounding very pleased. 

          Harmonthe was just as grim and straight-faced as Ginny remembered her. She no longer wore the elaborate costume of parlay. Ginny wondered where it went, but didn't have the nerve to ask. She didn't even acknowledge when she came. She strode up to her sister and said, "We have to talk." 

          The two of them walked away, Ginny tried to pretend like she wasn't curious about what they were saying. Of course she was, she knew it must be about her. She had been waiting weeks for this. 

          She hovered, by herself for awhile, looking at the stars, at the trees, at the women walking by, at anything other that Priene and Harmonthe. After a minute or two her eyes landed on Bremusa, who was as always sitting by the fire, working with adroit hands. "What are you working on?" asked Ginny, taking a step closer to the fire and consequently to Priene. 

          The older woman winked at Ginny and chuckled to herself. And the voices drifted up to meet Ginny's ears. 

          Harmonthe always looked grave but at this moment she looked especially so. "Priene…" she said, sounding like her mother. 

          "You weren't here," she sounded hurt, "so you might've missed it. I'm an adult now. You can tell me. What did they say?" 

          "They said a lot about Saturn and stars. I didn't pay much attention," replied Harmonthe flippantly. 

          "About Ginny!" cried Priene. 

          "They're willing to forgive your action so long as the Amazons make some concessions…" 

          "But I didn't do anything _wrong!" _By then, Priene was shouting, desperate. 

          "For Artemis' sake, Priene! I thought you were an adult now? This is for the sake of the tribe." 

          "He was going to kill her. He killed that wizard," Priene fumed. "I saw it, Harmonthe. Magorian stepped over the line. He trampled that poor man – in front of her – and almost murdered her." 

          "You're being a child—" Harmonthe began to admonish her little sister but Ginny wasn't listening. Something Priene had said had left her unsettled. Priene had sat and watched, bow in hand and arrows ever ready, as Kingsley was brutally murdered. 

          Still, whenever she thought about it, Ginny felt like crying. Her time with the Amazons had offered a welcome distraction from dealing with it and now it was all coming crashing back into her like a wave against a sharp rock. 

          Now she could see it all clearly in her head. Magorian stumbled upon her and Kingsley, both helpless after their fall, and became enraged. His boisterous anger brought sharp-eared and nimble-footed Priene to the edge of the clearing where she stood idly by while Ginny's protector had been murdered. 

          Ginny didn't feel herself rise from the spot in which she had been eavesdropping. The other Amazons never cared about her whereabouts; they didn't pay any attention when she made her way to the edge of the camp and out into the forest by herself. She'd never ventured into the forest by herself before. But right now, her usual fear was not praying on her mind. All she could think about was Kingsley, and his blood. There had been _so much_ blood. She had never imagined that a body could hold so much, let alone lose so much. 

           She wandered, only vaguely realizing she was using the tips Priene's for finding her way in the forest. It didn't matter right now which direction she went, only that she got away. And that she gave her legs the chance to work in sync with her racing brain. 

          This time, Ginny heard Priene's approach before she dropped down out of the tree in front of her, like some sort of ancient statue. She looked at Ginny, hurt and confused at her new friend's flight. "What's wrong?" she asked, noting the rage hidden behind Ginny's eyes. 

          "Were you there in time?" she asked, barely suppressing her fury. 

          Priene cocked her head to the side quizzically and didn't answer. 

          "Could you have saved Kingsley?" Ginny demanded. The huntress' silence only furthered her anger. "ANSWER ME!" she shouted, causing small birds to shoot, frightened from the trees above. 

          "Yes," said Priene simply and unashamedly. 

          It was a hundred times worse knowing the truth than it ever had been suspecting it. Ginny looked away from Priene, unable to look into the other girl's face. Instead she looked at the ground, which only served to remind her of how Kingsley's mangled body had looked lying on the forest floor. 

          "But you don't understand..." Priene continued. 

          "There's nothing you could say that could make it better," Ginny said evenly. "You let a man die. You let someone die because he was a man." 

          "No."

          "That's what you told Harmonthe, isn't it? You saved me because I was like one of the "sisters." You saved me because I was a girl! If I had been one of my brothers you would've let me die there! Just like Kingsley!" 

          "No," Priene said again. 

          Ginny almost laughed. "It's not true then? You didn't save me because I was a girl?"

          "Yes… I mean no…" she stumbled, and it occurred to Ginny that it was the first time she had seen one of the Amazons flustered. "I watched Magorian kill him. I let him die, yes. For that I am sorry. I saved you because you were just a girl—" she put up her hand to stop Ginny from jumping in. "Because you were a "foal" as he called you. All who dwell in the forest know of the centaurs plan to kill any humans who come here, and we accept that. But they promised not to hurt the young and innocent. Magorian broke his rules-- _his own rules_ -- when he attacked you." 

          "But…" said Ginny, "why didn't you save him? You could've helped him. I know you could've." 

          Priene nodded. "I could've. But it would've meant war with the centaurs if an Amazon flaunted their decree. Remember when I told you there used to be more of us? That we used to live somewhere else?"

          Ginny blinked. 

          "We can't go through that again, Ginny. I'm sorry, but if allowing your friend to die would prevent war, and save the lives of my sisters then I know I made the right decision. What would you have done if it were your brothers living in that glen?" 

          Ginny didn't respond. She didn't want to think about this anymore. 

          Priene held her hand out to her, "Come on," she said, softly, "I will take you back to Otrera." 

          "No," said Ginny, with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't go with you." 

          She took a step back, away from Priene. The other girl frowned. 

          "What could I have done?" she asked.

          "Take a chance!" Ginny cried. "You took a chance with me, didn't you? It still could've been war! Isn't that why Harmonthe went to parlay with the centaurs?"

          Priene shook her head. "The other denizens of the forest would've sided with us. They knew of the decree as well. No killing innocents." 

          "And you thought of all this while crouched up in that tree?" Ginny spat.

          "I did," said Priene. "That's how we must think to survive." 

          "Well," said Ginny after a pregnant pause. "I can't live like that. I have to go back… home." 

          "You cannot go alone," said Priene with a fierce shake of her head. 

          Ginny choked a sob. She didn't want to cry, not in front of Priene, who never cried or showed emotion like that. "But I can't go with you," she said dramatically. Priene stepped back, as though she had been slapped in the face. 

          And just like that, her friend disappeared. Priene's face changed – into the face of the woman Ginny had first encountered, the cool, collected warrior woman. "Fine," she said, evenly. Then, after a pause she said: "Take my bow in case you encounter any creatures."

          "I have my wand," countered Ginny. 

          But Priene wouldn't listen to her, and she stepped forward and placed the bow firmly in Ginny's small hands. "No one will bother you if they think you are an Amazon," she said, shrewdly. 

          And then she turned on her heel. Ginny thought she would turn around and say something else, like "goodbye" or "farewell" but she didn't. She quickly disappeared into the trees, leaving Ginny alone in with the sounds of the forest all around her. 

*        

          Thankfully, Ginny arrived at Hogwarts without incident. She stumbled into the Great Hall during breakfast. It was almost surprising to see the Great Hall not filled with chattering students. When she fell into the room with a bow, too large for her person, slung over her shoulder, Flitwick fell off his chair comically. When he reappeared, it looked as though he had seen some sort of apparition. 

          They had thought her dead. 

          Dumbledore smiled, relieved to see her. Professor McGonagall was stunned. When Ginny saw the three of them sitting at the small round table apparently planning for the students' arrival, she felt like crying and sleeping at the same time. There had been a time when she never thought she would see the castle again. She couldn't quite believe she was there. It was great. 

          They all tripped over themselves to welcome her, relieve her of her burden and, more importantly, owl her parents and let them know she was all right. 

          "Miss Weasley!" cried Dumbledore cheerily. "Good to see you again."

          Ginny mumbled something about glad to be back in response. She was too busy thinking about how nice it would be to lie down in a real bed. 

          Dumbledore stood up. "Filius, could you please go to the Owlery and send a note to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley letting them know she has safely arrived." 

          Professor Flitwick nodded. He raced from the room, his tiny legs moving quickly beneath his body. Once he had gone, Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. 

          "Minerva, please inform the house elves that Miss Weasley is here. They will have to ready Gryffindor Tower for her."

          Ginny smiled, thinking about her four-poster. 

          When McGonagall had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to Ginny. His eyes twinkled as he spoke. "So, you've met our new neighbours," he observed.

          "Er? Neighbours, sir?" she stuttered. 

          He looked her up and down then glanced at the very large bow she still had strung over her shoulder. 

          "Oh!" exclaimed Ginny. "Yes! The Amazons. I met them." 

          "Yes, they just moved here. They were at war with the centaurs in their old forest." Ginny fell silent. "Horrible thing. Centaurs and Amazons rarely get along, of course. The Amazons are far too concerned with the earthy world for that… I trust they kept you safe." 

          "Yes, sir." 

          "Good! If there's one thing you can trust an Amazon for, it's keeping young ladies safe." He beamed. "You'll be staying in Gryffindor tower, as usual. You may find it a tad quieter though. Don't worry. School will begin again before you know it. That's always the case, I find." 

          Ginny stood up, eager to get back to Gryffindor Tower and be alone with her thoughts but Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to stop her. 

          "Before you leave, Miss Weasley, I do have a few questions for you about what happened," Dumbledore said softly, with a noticeable attempt not to appear to be blaming Ginny for anything that had transpired. 

          "Right," she sputtered, then colored. "I mean, of course, sir – Professor Dumbledore." 

          "You fell from your broomstick," he recounted, "can you tell me why that was exactly?"

          Again, Ginny blushed. This had been something that had been bothering her since it happened. "No, sir," she admitted, ashamed she didn't have any more useful information to offer, "I remember feeling hot and then the broomstick fell out from under me. I didn't see anything." 

          Dumbledore nodded. "Quite all right," he replied, agreeably, "one can't be expected to note one's surroundings while plunging to earth from remarkable heights." 

          "It was probably the centaurs," she said, a bit too eagerly. "I mean – Magorian was there when we fell. And he killed Kingsley."

          The old man sighed in a manner that made him look very tired. "If the centaurs are so angry that they are shooting down innocent travelers to exact their revenge, then we are in trouble. It's not like them to care so much about Earthly affairs." 

          Ginny was silent for a moment, ruminating on what Dumbledore had said. "He wasn't there when we fell," she said suddenly. "Magorian. I passed out, and when I woke up I heard him approaching. He may have just stumbled upon us."

          "We may never know," murmured the Headmaster. 

          She had to bite her tongue. There was something about the aged wizard, perhaps it was how kind he had always been to her, even when she had single-handedly brought Tom Riddle back into his school and nearly killed several of his students, he had simply offered her cocoa to make her feel better. Whatever it was, it made her want to tell him everything just to please him. She wanted to shout that there _was _someone who knew where Magorian had been before she had fell to the Earth. There was someone who had seen it all. 

          But for some inexplicable reason, she said nothing. After a few moments of silence, he nodded to her and told her it would be all right if she left now. As she rose she heard him whisper thoughtfully, "For a forbidden forest there do seem to be a lot of students venturing out there." 

*


	3. Chasing Ginny

**Disclaimer**: Characters and setting shamelessly stolen from the _Harry Potter _series by J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.

**Thanks**: Big thanks go out to w&mlaw and Fearthainn, who are my faithful betas and bestest friends. Real credit for this chapter goes to w&mlaw for making me write it after months of block. Also to my wicked cool friendslist on LiveJournal who support me when I'm down. You guys rock.

**Notes**: No boobs were harmed during the making of this chapter.

FFN notes: Fanfiction.net has taken all the section breaks out of the formatting. Hopefully changes in time and space will be clear. If not head over to my yahoo group (StrangerStories) and read it there.

* * *

Summer at Hogwarts was as Ginny expected it to be: dull.

Once her family left, that was. Her parents had arrived shortly after she did, all tears and hugs. Her mum had tried to convince her to come home with them. And even though she had wanted nothing more than to stay at home with her brothers before, she couldn't imagine going back to her parents' house now. She cautiously disentangled herself from her mother and explained that there was no point in going home now. She was already there and she'd just have to come back in another month anyway. They weren't as happy when they left as they were when they arrived.

She discovered something she hadn't quite grasped before: Hogwarts was very big. The halls echoed when empty. She could hear her shoes on the floor when she walked. Peeves only had her to pick on. It was horrible. She missed her house, where there were always lots of people stuffed into a room. And part of her missed Otrera with the many Amazons always at work. But she didn't dare go back to either place.

She searched vainly for something to do. Only the teachers were at the castle, preparing for the students to arrive. Professor Sprout, noticing that Ginny was bored, asked Ginny to help her with some planting. And Professor McGonagall had her move chairs around and do other busy work that could've easily been done with a wave of the wand. She felt like she was imposing on them somehow. Like they had work to do and she was only getting in the way.

Thinking one morning of the nice days she had spent in the forest, she ventured out of the castle. Things were less horrible outside and she found herself spending most of her summer out of doors. Outside, she didn't get in the professors' way and there were always creatures about: whatever Hagrid was raising, the giant squid, owls and just butterflies wafting along. Ginny felt less alone then. She was happy it was summer and that she could spend so much time out there. She didn't know what she would've done if she had to stay cooped up in the castle for a month.

She still had nothing to occupy her time, besides sitting on the lush grass and gazing at the passing clouds. It sure was beautiful, but it wasn't very stimulating. And once again, Ginny became bored. She wished the other students were there. Then they could play Quidditch on the pitch or go rowing on the lake.

One morning she was lying in bed, the sunlight streaming through her open window and her eyes fell on the bow. The house elves, believing it was hers had brought it up with her trunk and other possessions. Until then she had been avoiding looking at it, like it was going to glare back at her.

She had so much fun learning to shoot with Priene… and really, what would it hurt to try it again?

She was still mad, of course. Ginny was still angry in a way that colored the way she walked and talked; pretty much everything she did was tainted by her anger. It was a matter of trust. Priene and the Amazons had betrayed hers. She was angry with them and angry at herself for spending all those blissful weeks unaware of anything wrong while Kingsley's dead body rotted. She was such an idiot.

But that wasn't the bow's fault, was it?

It was difficult to find a suitable target. She didn't dare venture too close to the Forbidden Forest to use a tree. And they didn't have proper archery targets at Hogwarts. The only sport the school supported was Quidditch. Eventually she found what she was looking for in the old shed that Madam Hooch used to store the school Quidditch supplies. It was an old goal post, sawed off so the hoop stood only a few feet in the air when dug into the ground. She didn't need a bull's-eye or anything fancy like that, after all. She was lucky when she got the arrow through the hoop.

Arrows were another problem. She didn't have access to the magic that could pull them out of the air so she had to make one. She stole a branch off an old broomstick, also found in the shed. It was crude. The point was made of a broken tea cup. And she only had one so she had to walk over and pick it up after every shot, but it wasn't like she couldn't spare the time.

She spent hours alone out there, away from anyone. She found shooting her arrow even more difficult than the ones the Amazons' had. It was heavier and didn't fly as straight. But still, after enough practice she got the hang of it, meaning that she could actually get the arrow near the hoop instead of it hitting the ground in front of it. She rarely actually hit her target. But it was progress.

By the time the end of August faded away she was bored of shooting her tiny arrow through the broken Quidditch hoop. She was proud of her success and tenacity but one could only shoot an arrow through a hoop for so long. She remembered her previous year at Hogwarts, which seemed so long ago. At the end of the term she had told Harry Potter that she was going to try out for the Quidditch team again, this time as a Chaser.

Ginny rather enjoyed Quidditch. It was another thing she had spent many hours practicing away from the prying eyes of others. Then she had been driven not by boredom but by the need to be good at something her brothers could appreciate. She wanted to play with the boys, put simply, so she wouldn't be left out of their family Quidditch tournament every year.

So she trudged back to the broom shed where she had discovered the broken hoop and searched for a Quaffle…

September the first dawned and Ginny was out of bed before anyone else, even the House Elves. She waited eagerly in the Great Hall for the arrival of the other students. She couldn't wait to have company finally. But more importantly she was looking for one person in particular.

"Ron!" she called when she saw that familiar tuft of flaming red hair.

She ran to greet her brother, all but knocking some small second years under the tables.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, not caring who was looking.

"September 1st," he said, a little surprised at the force of her hug. "I told you, didn't I?"

Ginny wiped a tear out of her eye. "Yeah," she smiled, "you did."

Things appeared to have settled back down after the rule of Umbridge and the Ministry the previous year. Classes resumed as if were just a horrible nightmare. The only difference was the overwhelming tension in the air now that everyone agreed that Voldemort had really returned. Many students worried that with Harry Potter and Dumbledore in one place, Hogwarts was bound to be attacked by legions of dark wizards.

Ginny thought that was a load of tosh. As if Lord Voldemort was stupid enough to take on Dumbledore on his own ground. So she went about her business. Fifth year was just as difficult as Ron had told her it would be. O.W.Ls were quickly approaching and professors dumped homework on the students in a desperate effort to make sure that they were prepared for one of the most important exams they would ever take.

Added to that Ginny was afraid of the upcoming Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. She had made the team last year but that was no guarantee of success this year. Plus she still didn't know what Ron would say. He had been keeping a close eye on her since he had arrived at the castle, probably at the prodding of their Mum.

One morning she woke up for an early breakfast in the Great Hall and happened to overhear her brother and Harry discussing the team.

"I'm worried about the team this year," said Ron, with a mouthful of food. "We're gonna have to find three new chasers and Harry's the only one who's been on the team for more than a year," he grinned brightly and added, "Captain Harry."

Harry blushed modestly even though he was more than capable of being in charge of a Quidditch team. "I'm the only one who's been on the team…"

"For more than a year," finished Ron. "Yeah, I said that already. When are tryouts?"

"Next weekend," replied Harry. "Seamus and Dean already told me they were going to try out. They've been practicing. That still leaves one spot…"

"I hope Neville doesn't try out," said Ron in a voice too loud for Hermione, who shot him a glare.

"He might hear you!" she cried.

"He didn't," said Ron, simply.

"He won't," interjected Harry, anxious to put off another one of their rows. "He's been afraid of flying ever since first year after what Malfoy did to him..."

The three of them all looked in the direction of the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was talking with his friends. Even when he was chatting he had an air of smugness about him. Ron pulled a face.

"We better find someone good," said Ron. "Or else Slytherin'll win the House Cup and he'll be unbearable."

"What about Ginny?" asked Harry. Ginny kept her head down and pretended she wasn't listening. "She told me last year she was going to try out. She was an all right Seeker."

"Dunno," said Ron, shoveling more food into his mouth. "That was before… you know. Best not to count on it. She might not be keen on Quidditch anymore."

Sullen, Ginny returned to her food. She didn't know why her family insisted on treating her with kid gloves. She thought maybe her stay in the forest would have forced them to see that she was every bit as capable as her brothers. But instead it had made them all worry about her more.

The day of the tryout dawned and Ginny still hadn't figured out how to tell her brother that she wanted to play. She didn't think he'd be mad exactly; worse, he'd be brotherly. He'd purposely go easy on her when she was trying to score so she could get on the team or he'd tell Harry to pick her even if she wasn't good. Brothers pulled nonsense like that. Ginny wanted to get in on her own merits.

As she strode into view of the pitch, she saw loads of people there to watch. Her stomach clenched. She had never played Chaser in front of people before and she hadn't expected there to be so many. All of Gryffindor was there. As well as the Quidditch teams from the other houses, anxious to see their competition. The Slytherin side was the noisiest. They jeered the current players, the hopefuls and just the Gryffindors in general.

"Hey look!" shouted Draco Malfoy, spotting her. Ginny's heart flew up into her throat as all eyes turned toward her. "The Little Weasel has a broomstick!" Then he started laughing, like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

Ginny's cheeks burned. She was sure she had turned that unattractive red color all the Weasleys did. The worst part was the laughing. She hadn't even been in the air yet and already they thought she was a joke.

"Ginny?" said Ron, jogging up to meet her. "Are you… trying out?" He looked at the school broom she had fetched from the Quidditch shed.

Unable to say anything with her heart jammed in her windpipe, Ginny nodded.

Ron's face instantly brightened. "Wicked!" he cried happily.

She felt like hugging him. "Oh, Ron," she sighed, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Er," said Ron. "Don't cry, Ginny. Whatever I said, I didn't mean it."

To that she laughed. "You're such a git."

"Aw. She's crying!" exclaimed Malfoy. "She must know how horrible she'll be." The other Slytherins guffawed stupidly.

"Ugh," said Hermione who had strolled over with Harry close behind. "They think they're so funny."

"Yeah," said Harry. He added, in a raised voice, "Ignore them, Ginny!"

She smiled, brushing away the tears. "Know what will be funnier? When we flatten them next match."

Ron grinned toothily.

Ginny wasn't at all nervous about flying after that. She made Ron promise not to go easy on her and he agreed although she was a bit skeptical. So she flew with as much determination as she could muster. And each time she sent the Quaffle soaring by Ron's outstretched hands, she saw the pink on his cheeks and knew that he hadn't held back at all.

So when she landed firmly on the pitch, the blood still pumping in her ears, she was tired but she was happy. She knew she had done well – better than the last time she had tried out and she had made it that time.

The next morning, Ginny woke early and rushed to find Harry. He said he'd have his decision in the morning but had intimated that she was surely to make the team the previous evening. Harry was awake, still partly in his pajamas, sitting in the Common Room reading a book. He smiled brightly when a messy hair, flustered Ginny bounded into the room.

"I've already told Dean and Seamus. The three of you are going to be our new Chasers."

Ginny could've kissed him. "Thanks loads, Harry. You won't regret this!" she rushed over and hugged him. He appeared a bit flummoxed by her reaction (Dean and Seamus had clearly not hugged him) but returned the hug just the same.

The Fifth Year Girls' dorm was empty when she returned to it. Everyone else had begun getting ready for the new day. She rushed around to find her robes, which had somehow flung themselves around the room the previous night, and hurried to get ready.

The Gryffindor Table was buzzing when she arrived in the Great Hall. Friends and admirers gave her thumbs up and congratulations as they shoveled toast and marmalade into their mouths before classes began. Ginny spotted Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan sitting at the end of the table, deep in conversation. Normally she would not interrupt the two friends but she was eager to give them their due congratulations. Both had flown masterfully the previous evening.

"Hey, Dean. Hey, Seamus," she said brightly. "Harry told me you made the team as well. Good going."

"Thanks, Ginny!" replied Seamus. "You were amazing yesterday. We're sure to win the Cup this year!"

"Yeah," mumbled Dean, "Good job, Ginny."

Ginny's smile faltered a little. She hadn't spoken to Dean since the previous year. They had gone out on a few dates. But surely he couldn't hold that against her! She had been in the Forest; it wasn't like she had ignored him on purpose.

Seamus looked at his friend and then at Ginny and said. "Er, I'm gonna go tell Harry something. I'll be back, mate."

"Dean…" began Ginny almost as soon as Seamus was up from the table. "What's wrong?"

"I was worried about you, wasn't I?" he said, getting right to the point. "And then I found out you were all right from Ron. How come you didn't owl me?"

"Well… I… I guess I didn't really want to talk about it," she explained. "I didn't even owl my Mum! Dumbledore did."

"I see," said Dean stiffly.

"I'm sorry," whispered Ginny. And she was. She was sorry that she had hurt his feelings because he was a good guy but if she had to do it over, she probably would've done everything exactly the same.

"Well," he said, rising from his seat. "I should tell you that I'm going to Hogsmeade with Parvati to celebrate making the team."

"Oh," was all Ginny could think to say.

"I gotta get ready for class." He turned to walk away and then turned around again. "Congratulations on making the team, Ginny. You really deserved it."

"Thanks, Dean."

As he walked away, she realized that her good mood from earlier than morning had almost completely evaporated. And the day did not get better as it went on. At lunch she purposefully sat away from Dean and Seamus, trying to avoid any more unpleasantness. This also meant sitting away from Ron and closer to a gaggle of giggling girls that included Lavender Brown and –to her chagrin—Parvati Patil. The two Sixth years appeared to be leading the conversation while some younger girls hung on their every word. Ginny tried not to mind them and loaded up her plate, hoping to bury her sorrows in mounds of food.

"Oi, Ginny," said Lavender. Ginny nearly fell off her chair. It was the first time she could ever remember the older girl talking to her intentionally.

"Er, hi, Lavender."

"We heard you made the team. Good going." The other girls smiled at her and Ginny smiled back, feeling maybe they weren't the gossipy idiots that Hermione made them out to be.

"Thanks," she replied. "We're going to flatten Slytherin this year."

Then they all started giggling again. Ginny frowned, wondering what she had said that was so funny.

"Aren't you afraid the boys won't like you?" piped one of the younger girls and Ginny shot her a death glare.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"You've had to have noticed, Ginny," said Parvati. "You're the only _girl._"

"Yeah," said Lavender, in defense of her friend. "There aren't that many female Quidditch players you know."

"Don't be stupid," said Ginny, curtly. "Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson were all on the team. Angelina was even Captain last year."

"Yeah but they're not here _this _year are they. You're the only one. Don't you think it's _weird?_"

"Not at all," said Ginny flatly. After all, she was used to be the only girl in a field of six.

"Do you take showers together? You know – after the games?" piped up Lavender incurring another round of laughter from the other girls.

Ginny blanched, thinking about showers with her brother. "What?" she asked. "That's gross."

They only giggled some more.

"You're going to be busy!" sang Parvati. All the younger girls turned red but sniggered into their hands.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Ginny.

"Come on. Only one girl. Six boys_," _said Lavender as if it were obvious.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it," said Parvati in a teasing voice. "Aren't the boys so cute when they're all sweaty after a Quidditch match."

Ginny pulled a face. Honestly, she _hadn't _thought about it and she rather didn't like having the thought forced upon her. "No. They're gross and smelly." The other girls laughed some more and Ginny was sure they were making some bizarre associations in their heads.

Abruptly, Ginny stood up from the table. Suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore. She stalked away without even finishing half of her heaping pile of food. She now knew why the Amazons isolated themselves and lived in the middle of the forest. It wasn't the men. It wasn't to hide from war. It was because of the other women. The girly annoying ones who only talk about hair and makeup. They'd driven the Amazons to kill.

She heard them whisper as she walked away: "She probably doesn't even _like _boys." And they all giggled annoyingly.

"Oi! Look!" cried Draco Malfoy for the fifteen time as Ginny walked down the hall between her classes. "It's the twelfth Weasley brother!"

Ginny set her mouth in a straight line and kept walking. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy all laughed like he hadn't already made that joke several times that day.

Malfoy had taken to bumping into her and calling her "Ron" like he couldn't keep the two of them straight. All the Slytherins thought it was hysterical. Now Ginny knew why girls never joined the Slytherin Quidditch team: because they were all horrible misogynistic gits. Cho Chang and the other girls on the Ravenclaw team kept sending her apologetic looks.

No one questioned Cho's sexuality of course. That would mean offending Cedric Diggory's memory and the Hufflepuffs didn't take kindly to that. They were very protective of their martyr. Part of Ginny knew Malfoy only picked on her because she was a Weasley and he hated all Weasleys. Plenty of girls had played Quidditch over the years and he had never said anything to them.

_If Katie, Angelina and Alicia were here they'd pound him, _she thought wryly. That put a smile on her face for the first time that day. And she walked to Transfiguration class without heeding any more of the Slytherin taunts.

Tensions between Slytherin and the other three houses were at a fevered pitch, worse than any other year Ginny could remember. Reports of Death Eater attacks and raids came by owl every morning. The _Daily Prophet _was littered of stories of dark wizard activity, not that they had finally admitted You-Know-Who was really back.

No one made any attempts to hide the fact that they believed the Slytherin families were behind it all. Nor did many of the Slytherins make any attempt to hide their glee each morning as the news came in.

"You'd think Dumbledore would do something about it," Ron grumbled one morning, as Draco Malfoy cheerily read the front page aloud to his Slytherin cronies. "The git," he added, nearly spitting.

"They have every right to be here too," said Hermione reasonably, obviously hating that fact herself.

"They should just chuck the lot of them out," said Ron. "One night they're going to kill us all in our sleep."

"Dumbledore'd never allow that to happen," interjected Harry, protectively.

Malfoy raised his voice when he reached an article about the shortage of Aurors to help combat the growing legion of dark wizards. "Hey Weasleys?" he called over. "You going to join up? They need a few good men!"

Everyone at the table turned to look at Ginny, who turned bright red under the scrutiny. She cursed being a redhead, and her sanguine complexion.

"Ignore him," Hermione muttered under her breath. "You'd make a cracking Auror, Ginny."

But Ginny was finding it harder and harder to heed Hermione's warnings. More and more often she thought how nice it would be to have Angelina back so she could straighten him out. Ginny wished fervently that everyone wouldn't stare at her when Malfoy talked. Most of the students were quiet, silently probing her with their eyes, waiting for some sort of reaction to Malfoy's insults. But a few others, they'd start whispering to each other behind their hands. She hated having everyone staring at her but it was even worse to know that they were laughing at her.

How did Harry put up with Malfoy every year? He always had something sarcastic to say. Finally one morning while they were exiting the Great Hall with fresh taunts ringing in Ginny's ears, she asked him: "Harry, doesn't it bother you when he goads you like that?"

Harry shrugged. "Guess I'm used to it by now," was his nonplussed reply. He added, "He's just upset because he knows our team is better than Slytherin's this year…" as he drifted out of the castle to Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ginny frowned. That was all well and good but Gryffindor wouldn't be playing Slytherin in Quidditch for months. There was no way to prove that their team was the best until then. Malfoy clearly wasn't mocking her so she would be nervous at the game. No, he was doing it just out of spite because he hated Weasleys and he hated her. She put her hands on her hips and stalked off to class.

The next morning Ginny was startled when several letters dropped out of the sky onto her plate as the owls swooped into the Great Hall. She was not used to getting letters, except the occasional note from her Mum which usually just came with Pig when Ron sent him out.

Curious, Ginny ripped open the first white envelope and read:

_Ginny—_

_ Ron told us that you have made the Quidditch team again this year. We are so proud of you, honey! Imagine our little Ginny playing Quidditch for Gryffindor. Don't be too nervous during your first big match this weekend. It's not your fault if the team loses. _

_ Play safe, sweetie. Quidditch can be rough, especially since you're so small. I've told Ron to keep an eye on you. _

_Love,_

_Mum_

Ginny read the letter over again just to make sure she was reading what she thought she was reading. But, yes, it was what she thought it was. She knew her Mum meant well… but… she still felt intense anger boiling up inside her that could not be directed at her Mum. Instead she ripped the next envelope open with more force than necessary. It was from her brother, Percy.

_Ginny—_

_ Mum told me that you have joined the Quidditch team this year—_

--He didn't mention that she had been on the team last year, of course, because he hadn't been around last year to hear about it. He didn't mention that either (of course)—

_I must say I was a bit shocked to hear that you of all people was interested in Quidditch. Now I love watching the sport as much as the next wizard, but it can be very dangerous, Ginny. And worst of all, it can be very time consuming._

_ Fred and George spent far too much time with Quidditch and not enough with their classes. You'll be far better prepared for life after Hogwarts if you don't allow anything to interfere with your academic performance. I hope you don't let this distract you from your studies. It's just a game after all. _

_ If I were there I would advise you to quit the team and spend your time in the library. I daresay you'll thank me for it later. _

_Sincerely, _

_Percy _

Ginny's immediate reaction to Percy's pompous and thoughtless letter was to crumple it in her fist, hoping somehow that if she could squeeze it hard enough then the words "you should quit" would stop ringing in her ears.

"Letters from your girlfriend, Weasley?" drawled a familiar voice next to her ear.

Grateful to have someone to focus her anger on, Ginny whirled around and focused a deadly glare at the lithe form of Draco Malfoy. He smirked at her, apparently not intimidated by her wrath. "Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized without sounding sorry at all, "I thought you were _Ron._"

His cronies guffawed from their perch at the Slytherin table.

She opened her mouth to tell Malfoy that he was an absolutely horrid person that had somehow risen from pond scum to come to Hogwarts and irritate any person with a shred of intelligence and that she didn't care what he thought of her because people of value didn't listen to the bile that poured forth from his overly-large mouth. But then she pursed her lips tightly together, remembering that what Hermione had told her. She turned back in her seat, staring pointedly at her toast until he went away, laughing.

It was then, with fury so great that she thought her head would pop off her neck and soar to the top of the enchanted ceiling that she ripped open her third and final letter.

_Gin—_

_We hear you made the team! Wicked! Be sure to knock Malfoy off his broom if at all possible. _

_Love,_

_Fred and George_

The morning of the year's first Quidditch match dawned over the hills surrounding Hogwarts and Ginny was up to see it. She hadn't slept at all the night before. Her dreams were filled with images of Draco Malfoy and Quidditch and flying high above the Forbidden Forest on a broom then falling, falling, falling. She would wake up with her stomach in her throat as though she had just been dropped off the Astronomy Tower.

Ginny barely ate a thing that morning; she still had the sickly falling feeling in her belly. Instead she chose to walk out to the pitch by herself, already dressed for the game, before anyone else got there. She stood in the center of the grass and felt the wind whip around her face. The gusts were strong and would factor heavily into today's game. She knew she would have to toss the Quaffle extra hard if she wanted to score any goals. And still she smiled, knowing if Malfoy wanted to shout anything at her from the stands she would not be able to hear him.

Rowdy students poured forth from the castle not long after and Ginny went to stand in the wings with the rest of her team. Harry, the new captain, stood in front, eyeing the crowd with grim determination. Ron patted Ginny on the back, supportively.

"All right," said Harry, turning to address his new team. "We all know that Hufflepuff isn't a great team but that's no reason to slack off. One mistake could cost us."

The team nodded. They were anxious to get out and play there best. There wouldn't be any C games played today.

Then Harry turned to look at his three new Chasers. "Don't be nervous. I picked you for the team because you're good enough. If you go out and play your best, everything will be fine. Okay?"

Dean and Seamus looked at Ginny. They all nodded. Somehow Ginny had expected more from Harry's pep talk. Angelina had always put more force behind her words and from what Fred and George told her about Wood, well, Harry was a lot more laid back than either of them.

Feeling as though the knot in her stomach had not eased, Ginny mounted her broom and pushed off into the air. She heard the cheers from the crowd and the roar of the wind. As she circled the pitch for a few practice laps, she closed her eyes and tried to remember the fun of flying when she would illicitly sneak out on her brothers' brooms and soar about the Burrow feeling completely free. She had almost recaptured that sensation of pure enjoyment when she heard the singing begin.

It was coming from the Slytherin section of the stands. Draco Malfoy was standing in the front of the green-clad spectators, waving his arms about like the conductor of a symphony. Ginny paused in mid-air. With the multitude of voices she could almost make out… yes… they were singing 'Weasley is our King.' She turned to look at Ron at the end of the pitch, and found that he was looking at her with the same concerned face she was looking at him with.

_Weasley could not hit a bean,_

_ She may as well join our team,_

_ She can only score for green, _

_ Weasley is our Queen! _

The words crashed over her like a wave. They were singing about _her! _She once again looked down at Draco Malfoy and found that he was looking at her as well, except he was _laughing. _She glared back and flew away, irate. Who did he think he was?

The beginning of the match passed in a blur, Ginny flew with speed and fury. No one on the Hufflepuff team could catch her. But every time she got close to the goal posts, she would toss the Quaffle at the hoops, imagining Malfoy's face in the middle of the circle being smacked by the heavy ball only to have it blocked by the Hufflepuff Keeper.

_He's an excellent Keeper_, she thought as she sped down the pitch again toward the Gryffindor end. Ron was too – of course – and she needn't worry about the Hufflepuff team out-scoring them. Their Chasers were nothing to speak of anyway.

The next time they headed toward the Hufflepuff hoops, Dean passed the Quaffle to Seamus. Ginny fumed. She was open! He could've given it to her! To her never-ending annoyance, Seamus threw the Quaffle expertly and it soared through a goal post to resounding cheers from the Gryffindor spectators.

Ginny knew she should be happy that Seamus had scored, and she was deep down. _Next time_, she thought, _Next time I'll score. _But as she turned to fly after the Quaffle she heard the Slytherin singing growing louder.

_Weasley's robes are never clean, _

_ And she smells like a latrine, _

_ All boys ran when she turned fifteen, _

_ Weasley is our Queen! _

_ Weasley is our Queen! _

_ Weasley is our Queen! _

_ She could not hit a bean! _

_ Weasley is our Queen! _

Determined to block out their annoying (and poorly-written song), she flew as fast as she could, zipping around the stadium like an insect. She knew what would shut those rotten Slytherins up: if she scored. If she scored then they wouldn't be able to tease her anymore. She would have proven herself.

But she couldn't score. Every time she got close the blasted Hufflepuff Keeper blocked her shot. To make matters worse, Dean Thomas managed to score off him and was rewarded with a high-five from Seamus. They ignored Ginny and flew off together as the game resumed. Steaming, Ginny turned around only to meet the smirking eyes of Malfoy. He flashed a triumphant grin and turned to conduct his friends in another verse of the song.

There was a loud gasp from the audience. Ginny turned around again to see Harry and the Hufflepuff Seeker chasing after the golden snitch. They weaved in and out through the crowd expertly. Harry reached out with one gloved hand, nearly grasping the flapping wings. Ginny cursed silently. _Not now! _she screamed silently. _I haven't scored yet! _She found herself wishing that the snitch would somehow elude him – that he would miss it somehow even though he was so close.

With everyone watching the action regarding the snitch, Dean and Seamus managed to snatch the Quaffle and rush toward the Hufflepuff side of the stadium. Seamus easily tossed the brown ball into the center goal post just before Harry managed to make his arm stretch just a little more and he snatched the snitch out of mid-air to raucous applause from the Gryffindor students.

"Hey, Weasley!" shouted the all too familiar voice from the Slytherin section. She had forgotten she was so close to him when she stopped. "Why didn't you just sit there through the whole game. It wouldn't have made any difference!" He chuckled at his own joke.

Something inside Ginny seemed to snap. She was angry with her Mum, Percy, all the Slytherins, Seamus, Dean and Harry. But right now the person she was most angry with Draco Malfoy and he was the one person whom she could vent her frustration on. She sped at him with speed she didn't think possible, and before anyone cold raise a shout to a professor or even make a sound, she had snatched him up by his filthy Slytherin robes and was zipping around the pitch with his helpless form dangling from her broomstick.

"You foul piece of trash!" she shouted at him, as he wriggled in her grasp, looking fearfully at the ground so far below him. "You are a completely worthless bastard, you know that!? I hope you rot in Azkaban just like your dear old daddy!"

She could see that this had struck a nerve, he opened his mouth to shout an insult back at her, but before he could Ginny felt something tighten around her middle, like she had been lassoed. And suddenly she was no longer zooming around the pitch, but stopped in mid-air while her broom slowly lowered itself to the ground.

Ginny looked up to see Professor Snape walking towards her determinedly. His wand was out-stretched and there was a fury she had never before seen on his face.

"Miss Weasley," he said, barely containing his anger, "let go of Mr. Malfoy this second."

Obediently, Ginny released Malfoy who instantly recoiled from her and moved toward the protection of his Head of House.

"Your actions today are unforgivable. He could have been killed. You are to come with me to the Headmaster's office immediately so he can deal with you _personally. _But I assure you, Miss Weasley, if I had my way then you would be packing your bags to leave Hogwarts for good, do you understand?"

She nodded mutely, suddenly realizing how much trouble she was really in. She had let her rage get the better of her and had attacked Malfoy in front of the entire student body.

The walk to the Dumbledore's office felt like a death march. Snape was still fuming at her side. He wanted her expelled and she knew that, if he were in charge, he would be perfectly within his rights to do so. Her only hope was that Professor Dumbledore was more forgiving. But under the circumstances, she wasn't sure he could be. Attacking fellow students and threatening their lives was certainly not something he could turn his back on.

She had never been in Dumbledore's office before. She didn't have time to be amazed by the phoenix, who she recognized from the Chamber of Secrets, pecking at some phoenix food in the corner, or the multitude of moving portraits staring at her from their places on the wall, or the whirling silver things on Dumbledore's desk. She was too busy worrying what her Mum would say when she found out about this.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with a strange, unreadable look upon his face. Professor McGonagall, Ginny's own Head of House, was standing behind him looking very grave. This did not make Ginny feel any better. In fact she rather felt like she had just woken up from another one of her falling nightmares again.

"Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore, "I have never seen such behavior from a young lady at Hogwarts in all my time here."

Ginny looked at the floor, feeling quite embarrassed. She was sure she was turning Weasley red as the Headmaster spoke.

"You will be happy to know that Draco Malfoy has been looked over by Madam Pomfrey and has suffered no notable injuries. Though I hope you realize how seriously he could have been injured had your grip faltered. I have no doubt that you did not intend to harm Mr. Malfoy—"

Professor Snape opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but Professor Dumbledore cut him off with a wave of hand. "But your actions today were careless, foolish and, most of all, dangerous."

"But Professor!" Ginny interjected. "He was horrible! That song!"

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence her as well but it was Professor McGonagall who spoke. "It doesn't matter, Weasley. I thought you would have learned from what happened to your brothers last year when they acted rashly when provoked."

Ginny gasped. "Are you going to ban me from Quidditch?!"

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a firm line. "I should," she replied. "As of now, you are on probation. If I see any indication that you have not learned your lesson – anything at all! – then you will never play Quidditch at Hogwarts again."

Ginny gaped but Professor Snape did not feel satisfied. "Professor McGonagall, I hardly think probation is a suitable punishment for such actions…"

"I wasn't finished yet, Severus," she answered. "You will also be serving two weeks worth of detention and be banned from any school activity that is not academic in nature. This includes all Hogsmeade visits. The next Gryffindor Quidditch match is in November. If you put one toe out of line or do not follow the rules to the letter, I will be forced to exact a more permanent punishment. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny nodded. She heard Snape's robes rustling beside her and looked up from the ground for the first time since McGonagall had spoken. Dumbledore's clear blue eyes were trained on her, piercing her.

"Miss Weasley," he said softly. "I must ask that you not let this summer rub off on you. You are a Hogwarts student and are expected to act accordingly."

She would not have been more horrified if he had struck her.

Ginny returned to Gryffindor Tower feeling miserable. She numbly whispered the password to the Fat Lady. Even though it was still relatively early, she was thinking how nice it would be to fall into bed and pretend this whole horrible day was just a dream.

She could not have been more surprised to discover that there was a huge party going on in the Common Room. The laughter and mirth of the room contrasted sharply with what a rotten mood she was in. Everyone was drinking illicit butterbeer and laughing merrily. When she walked through the portrait hole, everyone turned toward her and cheered.

Up above the fireplace was a large, moving banner depicting a redheaded witch on a broomstick holding a squirming boy in her grasp. The banner flashed "WAY TO GO, GINNY!" on it in shiny, blinking letters.

"That was awesome, Ginny!"

"Finally Malfoy gets what he deserves!"

"I've never seen anyone so frightened! I thought he was going to wet himself!"

"Oi, out of the way. She's my sister! Make some room!" shouted Ron, elbowing his way through the crowd of eager Gryffindors toward Ginny. "That was _amazing_, Gin. Shame you didn't drop him on his head." He beamed proudly down at her.

Just then, Seamus came over also smiled in a pleased sort of way. "Great move, Ginny. I didn't think you had it in you but… wow. You attacked him so fast. It was amazing, like you were some sort of warrior. You know? Out on that pitch… You're like an _Amazon _or something."

Seamus certainly wasn't expecting Ginny to burst into tears at his declaration. She folded her legs underneath her and fell to the ground, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. Confused, Seamus turned to Ron, wondering what he had said.


	4. The Christmas Visitor

Note: This chapter relies heavily on information found in "Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix," so if you haven't read that you should turn back. (And, honestly, why are you reading this when you could be reading that?)

Gryffindor Tower still bore the scars of one massive party the night before. No one seemed to mind, however. They were all still tucked in their beds and breathing heavily on this sleepy Sunday morning. There were no classes or homework due, so there was no reason to get up too early. That was, if you weren't Ginny Weasley.

Ginny woke up before the sun. Her scarlet curtains were pulled tightly around her bed, as they had been the night before. She had run to her bed and spent the night there, her mind full of worry and doubt. Ron had tried to coax her down to the celebration party with promises of Honeyduke's sweets and butterbeer. He didn't understand why his sister was so upset. Once he learned that Snape hadn't managed to get her expelled, her tears had confused him. She had managed to humiliate Malfoy and infuriate Snape in one fowl swoop. It was everything he and Harry had ever dreamed of.

His sister, however, had poked her head out of her curtains every hour on the hour to look to the sky for what she knew was coming. She wondered if there was some sort of charm she could do on the fabric, so the other girls wouldn't hear. Hermione would know, but then she didn't want to go talk to Hermione. She was sure the older girl would admonish her for breaking the rules and say that she deserved what she got from McGonagall.

They were all insufferable, Ginny thought. Not one person in Gryffindor Tower—or the whole of Hogwarts for that matter—understood her predicament. Again, she looked out the window. Her mum wouldn't understand either. Ginny clearly remembered her mother's voice echoing throughout the Great Hall her first morning at Hogwarts. It had been Ron Snape wanted to expel then. How would she react when it was sweet, little Ginny in his shoes?

When Errol, exhaustedly, dropped onto her bed a few hours later, Ginny was too afraid to look at what was strapped to his leg. Cautiously, she opened one eye, then the other. Waiting wouldn't do any good, it would only explode. She carefully opened the leather pouch and removed a pristine, white envelope.

_White._

Ginny couldn't have been more surprised. Howlers were _red. _Curious, she tore the regular letter open. It was, as she expected, from her Mum.

_Ginny—_

_ Professor McGonagall owled us late last night to inform us what happened. Thank Merlin you were not expelled! That Professor Snape, he just doesn't understand. Oh, Ginny. Your father and I are so worried about you. But don't worry, dear, you will be home for Christmas soon. We are anxious to see you. _

_ Be safe!_

_ Love,_

_ Mum _

Ginny turned the strange letter over in her hands. Surely she was missing the bit about her Mum being furious. Wasn't she going to threaten Ginny? Or make her promise to stay in line? That's how she always reacted when Fred and George were in trouble.

After reading it again, Ginny decided it was perhaps the most bizarre letter she had ever received in her life. Maybe some Dark Wizard had put the Imperius Curse on her Mum and was making her act oddly. Certainly that was the only rational explanation…

--

Detention with McGonagall began the next afternoon. Ginny had never had a detention before, even when she had inadvertently petrified half a dozen of her schoolmates, Professor Dumbledore had just told her to go to the hospital wing and have some hot coco.

"P-Professor McGonagall?" said Ginny timidly with a knock on the empty Transfiguration classroom door. McGonagall was seated behind her desk. When Ginny walked in, she dropped her quill back in the ink well and looked her watch.

"You're early, Miss Weasley," she noted, looking through her eyeglasses at the student.

"Yes, I-I didn't want to be late," admitted Ginny, turning slightly pink. "And I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me," exclaimed Professor McGonagall. "I realize you haven't done this before Weasley, but on most occasions students are not thankful they have received detention."

"But Professor Snape!" protested Ginny. "He said I was going to be expelled…"

McGonagall made a face. "Professor Snape," she explained, "is the head of Slytherin House. Thankfully, Miss Weasley, you are a Gryffindor and, therefore, it is not within Professor Snape's power to expel you." The elderly Transfiguration professor appeared rather perturbed at Professor Snape's comments but when her face turned to Ginny, it softened (as much a Professor McGonagall's severe countenance could soften). "I never intended to expel you, Weasley."

"Oh," said Ginny.

"Actually, Professor Dumbledore thought I was rather too harsh on you, Miss Weasley."

"He did?" Ginny gaped. "I thought—I thought he thought…"

Frowning, Professor McGonagall rose from her chair. "He, and your parents, think that you're reacting to the violence you saw this summer—that you're lashing out at young men because you lived with the Amazons." The professor's face contorted as if she didn't think this was at all appropriate.

"You, you don't agree with them?"

"No, Weasley, I don't. I think you lashed out at _a boy _because that particular boy has been giving you a hard time since the beginning of the term," she said simply. "And I think you ought to be punished as any other student would be under the circumstances."

Ginny lifted her eyes to meet McGonagall's stern brown ones. She held her gaze for a moment. "Then I was right to thank you."

--

"Weasley!" called Professor McGonagall a few days later. Ginny had spent the better part of three hours in the dusty cabinet where Professor McGonagall kept all her supplies. She was busy cleaning up a large mess that had been caused when a student accidentally knocked over boxes containing teacups waiting to be transfigured. Fragments of ceramic littered the closet floor. Professor McGonagall could've easily repaired them all with a flick of her wand but then Ginny wouldn't have busy work to fill the hours of her detention.

"That's enough, Weasley, you can go back to Gryffindor Tower," the professor called from her desk.

Ginny rose and cleaned off her robes. There were still places where white ceramic dust was clinging to the black fabric. As she was doing so McGonagall appeared in the doorway to survey the damage. She frowned. If there was one thing she hated it was mess and clutter. "This is the last time I allow Gregory Goyle in my storage cabinet," she muttered to herself.

Ginny looked up. "Bloody Slytherins," she said without thinking.

McGonagall looked furious as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "Honestly, Weasley, have you learned nothing? Do I need to give you more detention?"

"No, Professor," Ginny assured her, shaking her head frantically. "I only meant…" She trailed off, not sure exactly what she had meant.

McGonagall furrowed her eyebrows shrewdly. "They are only our enemies on the pitch; remember that, Weasley. Or haven't you been listening to the Sorting Hat's songs?"

Feeling ashamed, Ginny shuffled her feet and stared at the ground.

"If there is one thing you learn from this, Miss Weasley, I hope it is that Hogwarts' enemies come from outside, not within."

"But Professor!" she attempted to protest. What about all the children of Death Eaters, such as Malfoy. Surely they were not allies.

Professor McGonagall wouldn't listen to anything else she had to say though. "Tomorrow you'll be writing lines" was all she said.

--

"What's that smell…?" Draco Malfoy asked loudly to Crabbe and Goyle. He sniffed the air dramatically and turned in the direction Ginny was walking. "Oh, it's the little Weasel. Don't you have enough money to _bathe_?"

Ginny shot him a deadly look, but before she could do anything more, Hermione (who had apparently just had class with Malofy) grabbed her and pushed her to the side of the hallway, away from the prying ears of the Slytherins.

"Ignore him!" she hissed, somewhat desperately. "He's just trying to get you to retaliate so you'll be in trouble with McGonagall." Ron and Harry came up behind her to see what all the fuss was about.

"I know!" grumbled Ginny, trying not to be annoyed by Hermione's constant mothering. "It's just hard… I want to bludgeon him!"

"Everybody does," said Harry supportively.

"If you want, I'll bludgeon him for you," offered Ron helpfully. Hermione shot him a look.

"The best way to get to him now is not to say anything. Keeping him from getting what he wants drives him crazy." She looked sympathetic and patted the younger girl on the shoulder.

Ginny sighed. She knew Hermione was right, again! But Malfoy certainly wasn't making it easy for her. Ron and Harry offered her understanding glances before being swept off in the crowd of the students.

"See you later, Gin," called Ron as he disappeared into the masses.

The youngest Weasley adjusted her armful of books and continued down the long hallway to Charms class. At least she was very good at Charms and wouldn't have any problems there. It was getting through the next few days without being expelled that frightened her. The Christmas Holidays, though less than a fortnight away seemed so distant. She thought longingly of the comfort of the Burrow where no one would make fun of her… except Fred and George of course.

Christmases at the Burrow were simply her favorite thing in the world. And this year her Mum had made sure that the entire family, even Bill, Charlie and Percy who had been absent the last few holidays would be there. It would be just like when Ginny was younger and the whole family would gather around the tree on Christmas morning, burying the house in a pile of shiny wrapping paper and confetti from crackers.

Again, Ginny sighed. She hoped Malfoy wouldn't keep her Christmas from being merry.

--

It turned out that Professor McGonagall wanted Ginny to write out the lyrics to the Sorting Hat's plea for Hogwarts unity: "_Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes_ _and we must unite inside her_ _or we'll crumble from within." _ It seemed to Ginny a strange task and for hours nothing could be heard but the scratching of her quill as she filled up foot of parchment after foot of parchment with the hat's warning.

McGonagall couldn't actually expect her to "unite" with Draco Malfoy, could she? Ginny worried that the professor was going to spring a crowd of Slytherins on her a force her to make nice. The thought alone made her shudder. The only Slytherins she knew were evil and she had known one very intimately: Tom. He was even a decent of the man himself. She couldn't imagine anyone who tried to live in Salazar Slytherin's footsteps could be anything but cruel.

Still, Ginny didn't want to complain. McGonagall, for some reason, seemed to have an understanding of her predicament that no one else had. She wanted to please her Head of House. Most of all, she knew she could have been sentenced to far worse punishment than writing lines.

"Professor," she said finally, breaking the silence in the classroom. Ginny's hand ached from writing. "I've finished this roll of parchment."

"Have you?" said Professor McGonagall, quite astonished. "That was fifteen feet!" She leapt from her chair to examine Ginny's work.

Ginny stretched and flexed her fingers. "Professor?" she said again. "Do you really think Gryffindors and Slytherins can be friends?"

"I do," said Professor McGonagall with a very knowledgeable air. "After all, Professor Snape and I do not always see eye-to-eye but we manage to work together."

Ginny knew, without McGonagall having to say it, that the professor meant "working together" outside of Hogwarts as well as within.

"You're not going to make me be friends with Draco Malfoy, are you?" The student pulled a horrible face just thinking about it.

McGonagall chuckled—a strange sound as Ginny had never heard her laugh before. "No," she replied. "I cannot and will not make you be friends with anyone, Weasley. And I'm quite aware that Mr. Malfoy has not acted very friendly to you."

Of course she knew, thought Ginny, everyone in the crowd could hear Malfoy's song about her. "He's horrible," groaned Ginny. "But if you say not all of them are, I'll believe you."

McGonagall actually appeared pleased with this response. "You know," she added, "Mr. Malfoy has never given me any problem in the classroom."

Ginny gaped. "But Ron and Harry say he's insufferable during classes."

The professor looked thoughtful. "Yes, I've noticed that some Gryffindors, especially Weasleys and Potters, do not agree with him. But I usually teach him when your brother and Harry Potter are not present."

"So you're saying he's just horrible to us?" Ginny tried to think of other people complaining about Malfoy, but couldn't think of any. She found this revelation somewhat astonishing.

"He's normally reasonably well-behaved, then his nemeses come along and he turned into a little terror," observed McGonagall. "It reminds me of another student I had once…"

"You mean Professor Snape," scoffed Ginny. People were forever comparing Snape and Malfoy because they were both so good at Potions and because they both hated Potters.

"No," replied a thoughtful McGonagall. "Actually, I meant James Potter."

Ginny was sure her mouth was touching the floor.

McGonagall, apparently, didn't notice because she continued on with her musings, "He was smart and well-off as well. Popular with the young girls. Then Severus came along and…well he did some nasty things." She turned at looked at her student. Ginny noticed that the lines in McGonagall's face were showing more than normal. Gosh, she must've taught hundreds of students in her years at Hogwarts, thought Ginny. Now she looked like she needed a good rest.

"Do you understand what I am trying to tell you, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny nodded.

"Well then, Happy Christmas, Weasley."

--

Ginny all but launched herself at her father as she stepped off the Hogwarts Expresse. The surprised Mr. Weasley nearly fell over, as he caught the ball of red hair and energy. "Where's Mum?" she asked eagerly, looking around the bustling train station for a glimpse of her mother.

"She's at home," answered Mr. Weasley. "She had some very important baking too do and insists I bring you home as quickly as possible for tasting."

"Ergh, where's Ron?" wondered Ginny grumpily. She had never been so anxious to get home during the holidays and took it as a personal affront that her brother was holding her up.

Ron slowly emerged from the train, obviously not in such a rush to get home. He felt horrible leaving Harry behind at Hogwarts and would miss Hermione. He also had a feeling something was going to happen this holiday season. He thought of the war with Voldemort as a giant chess game, and someone was about to make a move. He just wasn't sure if it would be white or black. Ginny wasn't worried about the war right then. (That was Dumbledore's job, not hers.) She was just glad to get away from Malfoy and into the safety of the Burrow.

"Hurry up!" she cried. "Everyone's there already!"

"Any news, Dad?" Ron asked as he meandered up to his father and sister.

"Everything's fine," replied Arthur, in a tone that clearly said, 'none of your business.' He then turned to Ginny like she was a child. "Come on, let's see what Mum has been cooking then!"

Ginny squealed girlishly and grabbed her brother's arm, all but dragging him from the train station.

Bill, Charlie, Fred and George were already at home to meet Ron and Ginny's arrival. Percy would be flooing over from his flat later than evening. Ginny hugged them all at least three times before she was satisfied.

"All right, Gin?" asked Fred, amiably.

"What's with Ron?" wondered George, as Ron clambered up the stairs with his trunk.

"He's being a Scrooge this year," explained Ginny, looking around excitedly at the Christmas decorations that had been carefully hung around her home.

"Good," exclaimed George, pleased, "Mum can yell at him then instead of us." Charlie and Bill chuckled.

Just then the lady herself appeared in the doorway, clutching a large wooden spoon in one hand. She made a choking noise and rushed over to embrace her youngest child. "Oh, Ginny, I'm so _sorry_," she sobbed.

Ginny hugged her mother in return but didn't exactly know what her Mum was talking about. "Er—why?"

"I should've never sent you away!" cried Molly, as she pulled away to get a look at Ginny. "Oh your hair needs cutting," she said, fussing with her daughter, "and you're so _thin_, dear. I reckon they didn't feed you at that awful place. Nothing a good Christmas dinner won't fix up…"

"Er," was all Ginny could manage in reply. Apparently Molly thought the Amazons had starved her over the summer. She didn't have the heart to tell her Mum that she had been at Hogwarts for the better part of four months and they certainly had starved her there.

Molly Weasley continued to make a big to-do over Ginny at dinner. She kept scooping extra helpings onto Ginny's plate. Molly wouldn't hear of Ginny not eating everything, so in order to please her Mum, Ginny had to surreptitiously spoon most of it onto Charlie's plate. Molly also kept mentioning Ginny's hair, the way she normally did Bill's, and she announced halfway through the main course that Ginny needed new robes and hoped Father Christmas would bring her some.

Fred and George choked on their food.

It was an awkward sort of dinner. Ginny was glad to see all her family again, but there were large pink elephants in the room that were not being discussed. For one thing, save her exclamation when she greeted Ginny, Molly refused to let anyone talk about this summer. Nor could Ron or Ginny ask about the goings on of the Order of the Phoenix. And everyone, especially Percy himself, pointedly not mentioning that Percy had not been present the previous Christmas.

"I wonder what Harry and Hermione are doing," Ron said sullenly, poking at his peas.

"Probably eating a good healthy meal," replied Molly, a bit miffed.

"We should invite them!"

"Dumbledore already said that Harry has to stay in the castle this year. It's for his own good," his mother said simply. "Now eat your food."

"But if something happens and I'm not there!"

"Don't be silly. Dumbledore won't let anything happen and you couldn't prevent anything that he couldn't."

After that, they adjourned to the living room where they talked only about Christmases of their youth, Quidditch, the Weird Sister's new song and other inoffensive topics. By the end of the evening, Ginny was tired from all the not talking she had done. When it was still early, she yawned dramatically and announced that she would be heading to bed.

"Oh good," said her mother, "You could use a good night's rest, dear."

After climbing up the squeaky steps, Ginny pushed open the door to her bedroom. It was just as she left it, just as she remembered it. The fluffy duvet her mother had sewn for her still covered the old mattress and pictures of handsome Quidditch players still covered the walls. Ginny sat on the bed, stared at the ceiling and wondered when she had stopped belonging in the little girl's room.

--

Christmas Day was decidedly better than the first day back at the Burrow. It turned out that Father Christmas did bring Ginny new robes along with the traditional Weasley family sweater. ("Maroon again," sighed Ron.) She also got a tiny replica dragon that puffed smoke from Charlie, a necklace Bill had found in a tomb in Egypt, a book called _The Secrets of OWLs Unlocked (Better Scores Guaranteed) _from Percy, new Quidditch gloves from Ron and a secret stash of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes which Fred and George had to give to her when their Mum wasn't looking.

All in all, it was a great haul. For once, Ginny did not feel let down once all her presents were opened and the Christmas dinner had been consumed. Everyone was too busy playing with their new gifts to not talk about important issues. Her mum made sure everyone had more than enough food; Charlie told tales of how dragons had nearly killed him and everyone gasped at all the right places; and Percy didn't even act like a git. Ginny's only regret was that they didn't get to go outside and have a good old fashioned Weasley snowball fight.

There was no snow this Christmas, but it was unseasonably cold. There was a touch of frost in the air making the outside gray and forbidding. The snuggly warm atmosphere of the Burrow was in stark contrast to the weather outside. Mr. Weasley had a roaring fire going in the fireplace, and Fred and George were turning it different colors just for the heck of it. Even Ron couldn't stay sulky about leaving his friends at Hogwarts.

They were laughing and talking animatedly in the living room when the knock at the door resounded throughout the entire house. The whole family stopped frozen for a moment. They were all there. There was no one they were expecting, especially not on Christmas Day. Perhaps they had misheard. Maybe it was just the winter wind. But, no, there it was again, sharp and official. There was definitely someone knocking on their front door.

Ginny looked around at the white faces of her family and knew they were thinking along the same lines as she was. No one would disturb them on Christmas unless it was very important. These days "very important" meant something to do with the War and the Order. In this situation, no news was most certainly good news.

Arthur Weasley rose from his chair somewhat shakily and the rest of the family watched as he strode across the floor and yanked the door opened. Ginny expected to see Tonks or Lupin, someone from the Order standing there looking grim. When the door actually swung open though, she had to look away. A cold gust of winter wind entered the room, causing the warm family to pull their Weasley jumpers close around their shoulders.

When Ginny looked up again, she saw her standing on the doorstep looking just as cold and severe as the weather outside. She was a tall woman, probably as tall as Professor McGonagall, but younger with ribbons of blonde hair falling impossibly straight down her back. She wore all black and had her hands shoved comfortably inside a fuzzy muff that looked to be real fur.

Ginny knew she had seen the woman before, some time ago, but she couldn't place her until her mother stammered from behind her. "N-Narcissa? Narcissa Malfoy?"

--


	5. The Christmas Visistor Pt 2

**DISCLAIMER: **Aspects of this story are borrowed from JK Rowling's Harry Potter novels, which are owned, by Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, and other corporate entities. I put this here in hope that they won't sue me.

**NOTES: **If you'll recall, this is the second half of chapter four, which I had a lot of trouble writing. I've rewritten this more times than I can count. I'd like to thank Deke, Fearthainn, w&mlaw, Banfennid, and my friendslist for listening to me whine about this chapter. It probably would've taken five years for this to get out without them. I'd also like to thank JK Rowling for _Half-Blood Prince. _

Ginny stared at the woman still hovering in the doorway. She had the terrible and improbable notion that Mrs. Malfoy had come to the Burrow on Christmas Eve to scold her, and possibly turn her into a toad, for harming her son at a sporting event that happened weeks ago. But Narcissa Malfoy never so much as looked at Ginny. She closed the door behind her. It was rude to leave the door open, after all. Then she looked at the family celebrating the holidays together and did not recoil. Rather, she said her greetings, politely and formally, as if she knew no other way to begin a conversation.

Next, without any preamble, she announced, "I would like to go to Grimmauld Place."

Someone choked.

Ginny stared at the woman, dumbfounded. There was no doubting that she was completely serious. There was also no doubting that she was completely out of her mind; Ginny's parents would never take her to the Order's headquarters.

As expected, Ginny's father turned red, angry at her presumption. "If you think we'll lead anyone with the name 'Malfoy' there—" he began, only to be interrupted.

"My cousin is dead," Mrs. Malfoy countered, haughtily.

It took a moment for Ginny to realize she meant Sirius. It was hard to think of the two of them as related. That meant there must have been a time when they were young and played together.

"I have as much right to the property as anyone." She added, with a bit more composure, "Besides, I've left my husband and I have no where else to go."

Pandemonium.

Mrs. Weasley began herding all of her children, no matter how old, upstairs. All the while she and her husband continued to pepper Mrs. Malfoy with questions. Fred and George had to be bodily removed from the kitchen, they were so intent on hearing whatever gossip was to be heard. Ron, meanwhile, feebly insisted that he should be involved. His main reason was Harry. But Molly Weasley wasn't about to let Harry "get into more trouble."

Percy suggested that they give Mrs. Malfoy tea. No one seemed to care and he was forced to help his older brothers corrall the younger ones. Ginny knew this was only because, as adults (having finished Hogwarts, where Ron and she had not), her parents would tell them everything later.

The only one who remained calm was Mrs. Malfoy. In fact, it was rather hard to picture her ever becoming as twitchy and agitated as the Weasley clan was.

Ginny watched her brothers, both wrangled and wranglers. Both Bill and Charlie managed to get Ron in his room, but had to stay there to make sure he wouldn't sneak off. Mrs. Weasley pulled no punches. She told Percy to seal off the twins' room with some sort of charm, then turned to Mrs. Malfoy, pleased with herself.

Maybe it was because Ginny was so quiet the entire time. Or maybe it was because she so rarely caused trouble (unfortunate recent incidents aside). Perhaps they thought she would go to her room as instructed, since she seldom flaunted her mother's decrees. Whatever the reason, during the commotion, no one seemed to notice her.

She didn't go to her room. She followed as Percy, Bill and Charlie marched off with Fred, George and Ron, but only up a few creaky steps so she was out of sight of those downstairs. Then she sat, clinging to the shadows, on the wooden stair and listened. Only a few minutes ago, Narcissa Malfoy was nothing more to her than the forgotten mother of a horrible boy, but now it was different. Ginny didn't know why but she thought that whatever Mrs. Malfoy was going to say would be important not just to the Order of the Phoenix but to I _her /I _personally.

Ginny heard her mother offer Mrs. Malfoy tea as Percy had suggested. It was absurd really, the way her mother asked so conversationally, as if they were old friends. Ginny's dad was quieter. She imagined him peering at her through his glasses, trying to figure out what she was playing at. Arthur Weasley had never liked Lucius Malfoy; everyone knew that. So what would motivate Lucius's wife to show up at his hated enemy's home on Christmas?

"No, thank you, Molly," replied Mrs. Malfoy properly. "I'd rather… I'd rather I didn't waste I _your /I _ time."

Ginny's dad snorted. Ginny could almost see her mother giving him a look because he didn't speak, allowing Mrs. Malfoy to continue.

"I have no desire to end up in Azkaban with Lucius." It surprised Ginny how calmly she could talk of her husband being in the wizard prison. Somehow she hoped if she ever had a husband that they would be together forever, no matter where they were. Mrs. Malfoy entertained no such girlish notions. "You protected Sirius Black, I don't see why you can't do the same for me."

"Sirius wasn't a Death Eater!" shouted Ginny's dad.

There was a rustle of fabric, which Ginny could only assume was her rolling up her sleeve, and then Mrs. Malfoy said, "Neither am I." The way she said it reminded Ginny of the way Ron pronounced "checkmate" when he won at wizard chess.

It was Ginny's mum who spoke next. "Arthur, dear, we'd best summon Dumbledore. He'll know what to do." Ginny detected a hint of uncertainty in her mum's voice. Molly Weasley wasn't usually so quick to defer opinions to someone else, but Ginny thought she had the right of it. Mrs. Malfoy wouldn't be able to try any tricks with Dumbledore around.

"I think I'll have that tea, Molly," sighed Mrs. Malfoy as Arthur Weasley cast the Patronus charm.

It didn't take Albus Dumbledore long to arrive. Ginny's mum was just pouring when he Apparated in with a pop, greeted everyone pleasantly and wished the Weasleys a happy Christmas. To Mrs. Malfoy he said, "It's been a while, Miss Black."

"I haven't been 'Miss Black' for a long time," she corrected him.

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Forgive me, I am an old man and my mind isn't what it used to be, I fear."

Nobody said anything to that because none of them believed him.

He continued blithely. "Arthur tells me you would like to move into Grimmauld Place."

"I would," Mrs. Malfoy replied stiffly.

"Your husband is in prison for being a Death Eater. Your own sister escaped and joined with Lord Voldemort. I saw them together myself." Ginny shuddered involuntarily at the mention of his name. Her parents probably did the same, but somehow she doubted Mrs. Malfoy ever shuddered.

"You are going to hold the crimes of my family against me?" Ginny thought Mrs. Malfoy sounded distraught, but perhaps she merely hearing things. "I had hoped your side would be… more open-minded."

"My mind is quite open, Narcissa," said Dumbledore. "I'm merely explaining why I can't very well let you into Grimmauld Place, which, I'm sure you've deduced from what the elf Kreacher has told you, was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix." His tone brightened considerably when he added. "Besides, Sirius willed it to his godson, Harry Potter, and it is not mine to give."

"So you'll let them kill me," she hissed. "And my son." Something queer happened to Mrs. Malfoy's voice when she said "my son." It reminded Ginny of the way her own mother sounded when she yelled at Fred and George for playing particularly nasty pranks on Ron. It was hard to imagine Draco, who Ginny fervently hoped "they" would kill, having that sort of relationship with anyone.

"Does he intend to kill you, Narcissa?" Dumbledore asked seriously. There was no doubt who _he_ was.

She laughed without a hint of mirth. "He will when he finds out I've come to you. He's already angry with Lucius for botching his plans. I don't mean to be punished for my husband's mistakes."

"Surely your sister would not let him harm you," said Dumbledore. To someone who didn't know him better it would sound as if he was attempting to convince Mrs. Malfoy to go back to the Death Eaters, but it seemed to Ginny he was merely attempting to puzzle out her reasoning.

Mrs. Malfoy made a noise, like a snort but more dignified. Clearly she didn't think anyone was capable of stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once he put his mind to something. There was a long pause and then she said, "Blood didn't stop her at the Ministry."

"Ah," was Dumbledore's response. "I see."

"I can tell you the names of others," she ventured, trying to convince him. "Without Lucius I no longer have access to much information but…"

"That won't be necessary, Narcissa." For a moment Ginny was afraid Dumbledore was going to turn her away but instead he said, "We shall find some place safe for you."

"And my son!" she cried, for the first time allowing emotion to overcome her.

"Yes, of course. Draco is at Hogwarts and will be protected there. It's you I am concerned with. Lord Voldemort will notice your absence. Perhaps he would have already, except," Ginny pictured his eyes twinkling, "it is Christmas and who would think to look for you at the Burrow?

"I trust that will give me a bit longer to go make the necessary arrangements. Until then, you shall be safe here."

Just like that, he was gone again, leaving the one Malfoy with the Weasleys. There was an awkward silence. Mrs. Malfoy said, finally, "I apologize for intruding on your Christmas."

"Er—" said Ginny's father, eloquently.

The three of them sipped their tea. Ginny could hear the tinkle of china and her father slurp.

"Perhaps I ought to adjourn to the living room. A sofa sounds lovely about now," said Mrs. Malfoy after a time. She added, "and you two can I _talk_." /I She left off the implied 'about me.'

Ginny imagined her parents sharing meaningful looks with each other. But eventually she heard her mother say, "Yes… that s-sounds like a good idea."

A few moments later, Ginny got her first good look at the woman. She emerged from the kitchen, her back straight and her long robes sweeping the floor behind her, and walked into the living room. She still had a cup of tea in her hand. Ginny recognized her mother's good china. The cup was shaking almost imperceptibly.

Ginny silently descended a few stairs to get a better look. Mrs. Malfoy was staring at their Christmas tree. Once or twice her eyes flicked around the rest of the room, but always returned to the tree as if she couldn't bear to look at the rest. She said nothing, no harsh comment about how ratty the furniture was, like her son would've issued, and lowered herself onto the patched sofa that sat in the middle of the room. It made Ginny sad to see her sitting there, sipping her tea with stiff posture. Draco Malfoy had harassed her family for years, but never had his taunts made her feel so I _poor /I _as Ginny did then.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Ginny wasn't sure why she spoke. She should've gone up the stairs to her room so no one would find out she had been spying but she couldn't help herself. The other woman looked so sad and the silence she sat in was just too much. "Are you all right?"

Mrs. Malfoy turned to look at her. She smiled faintly and said nothing about the spying. "Yes," she replied. "I'm fine. It's good of you to ask."

"Er—" said Ginny. She came out from her perch in the shadows, feeling awkward.

"What's your name?" asked Mrs. Malfoy, as if "er" were a proper response.

"Ginny," said Ginny. "It's really Ginevra. Dad named me," she said as if that explained everything.

"It's lovely," said the other woman, and Ginny believed her. "I wasn't aware that Molly and Arthur had a daughter."

"I'm the only girl. Six boys and me." Ginny paused, thinking it queer that Draco hadn't mentioned her. Of course, she wouldn't have told her Mum if some chit had humiliated her in from of the entire school. What was even stranger though, was that Mr. Malfoy never mentioned her. Somehow she had imagined that the Malfoy family sat around the dinner table at night and plotted to give her Tom's diary. She could see now that wasn't true. She wondered if the three of them ever spoke except when they had to.

"You must go to Hogwarts. Do you know my son? His name is Draco."

"Er," said Ginny again. She didn't really want to be the one to tell Mrs. Malfoy that her son was a horrible git who needed no introduction—on Christmas no less. "Not really. He's a year above me and in a different house."

If Mrs. Malfoy noticed Ginny was avoiding the subject, she didn't mention it. "Ah. I'd forgotten. You must be in Gryffindor."

"Yeah, we all are." Ginny was glad they weren't talking about Malfoy anymore.

"It must be nice to be so close to your family," observed Mrs. Malfoy conversationally.

There was no time for Ginny to point out that she often wished to be I _further /I _from her sometimes overbearing brothers because there was the sound of footfalls. It wasn't long until her parents appeared in the room, along with Dumbledore, who had apparently returned. It was only a few steps from the kitchen to the living room and there was no way Ginny could hide herself on the stairs again.

"Ginny!" cried her mother in a disapproving tone. She opened her mouth to say more but Dumbledore cut her off.

"Good evening, Miss Weasley. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Professor," she replied guiltily, hoping she wasn't about to be in huge trouble.

"It was good of you to keep Mrs. Malfoy company."

"Yes," said Mrs. Malfoy. She turned toward Ginny's parents. "Your daughter is lovely."

"Are you ready to go, Narcissa?" asked Dumbledore. Mrs. Malfoy stood, obviously ready. "Good. I've made a few hasty arrangements. I'm afraid your new home won't be quite what you're used to but I'm sure you'll manage," he turned toward Ginny, tipped his hat and added meaningfully, "as Ginny did."


	6. United from Within

Disclaimer: See previous and don't sue.

Notes: This chapter had to change a lot when _Half Blood Prince _came out. Mostly I made stuff fit, but I didn't go back and change that Katie Bell is still a Chaser. I hope the pacing isn't too weird because of all the forcing things to work. I guess we'll see! Thanks to Fearthainn and Mynuet for betaing this for me.

The rest of the holidays passed uneventfully. For the first time in six years, Ginny dreaded heading back to Hogwarts; so naturally the day the Hogwarts Express was to depart from King's Cross came even faster than usual. Before Ginny knew it, she was back unpacking her belongings next to her four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower, wondering where the time had gone.

When all the unpacking was done properly (her mother would be proud), Ginny descended into the Gryffindor Common room. Her brother and his two best friends, Harry and Hermione, were sitting by the fireplace. Ginny could tell from their postures that they were discussing recent events. Harry's face was paler than usual as though he had been sick. Ron's, on the other hand, was red with anger and Hermione looked concerned about both boys.

Wondering if Ron had told them about Mrs. Malfoy, Ginny inched closer to the trio. Harry was telling them about a particularly grim dream had the night before. "Do you think it's You-Know-Who?" asked Ron fearfully.

"I'm not sure," admitted Harry. "Professor Dumbledore says he learned to keep his thoughts from me. But… I think… sometimes… he's angry about something. I don't know what."

Grinning, Ginny slipped through the portrait hole, suddenly glad to be back at Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord wasn't the only one who was angry. Draco Malfoy was even fouler than usual. He made Neville cry within 24 hours of his arrival back at school. Ginny couldn't believe someone with a mother as lovely as his had such atrocious manners.

Sometimes, when she was in between classes, Ginny could hear him muttering under his breath as she passed him in the halls. They were the same old taunts; she was still poor, freckled, and consorted with mudbloods. He never got new material. Ginny didn't feel threatened. Crabbe and Goyle, for some reason, were never around as much anymore. It wasn't like he could actually do anything to her. She could out-hex him any day.

That thought always brought a smile to her face. And when she smiled at his jeers it always made him that much angrier.

A few weeks into the term, Professor McGonagall approached her after Transfiguration class. "Weasley," she said sternly, making Ginny think she was in serious trouble.

"P-Professor?" she stuttered.

"I've been watching you since your last _indiscretions. _I think you've learned your lesson."

It was then that Ginny realized that Professor McGonagall's perpetual sternness was endearing, really.

"Does that mean I can play!" she squealed. Ginny, though she would never admit it, bounced up and down a little the way Lavender did whenever there was good gossip.

"Yes," said McGonagall, allowing herself the tiniest hint of a smile. "You will be back on the team when Gryffindor plays Slytherin."

"Thank you!" Ginny breathed.

"Just remember what I taught you, all right, Weasley?"

"Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes and we must unite inside her or we'll crumble from within," repeated Ginny from memory, feeling the urge to go hug some random members of other houses.

"Too right."

The Slytherins, however, were in no mood to be uniting with anyone. Once it became clear that the Quidditch Cup was once again on the line for the Gryffindor v. Slytherin match up, all hell predictably broke loose. There were the usual scuffles in the hallway. Slytherins tried to put foul potions into Gryffindor pumpkin juice. Gryffindors shouted at them. It reminded Ginny of her second year at Hogwarts.

One morning, Ginny descended from Gryffindor Tower late for breakfast. She was irritated at her tardiness but in an otherwise good mood, until she walked into the Great Hall to a scene of complete chaos. Everyone was out of their seats, craning their necks to see something in the center of the room. Somewhere inside the mass of bodies, Ginny heard the unmistakable sound of her brother Ron howling in fury. With a feeling of dark foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Ginny shoved aside a group of Hufflepuffs and made here her way into the thick of it.

Ron was standing above Draco Malfoy with blood trickling from his nose. A canary, presumably an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire, was flying around the both of their heads and tweeting angrily.

Ron was shouting. "How dare you—you bloody bastard—"

But before Ron could hurl any more profanity, which he was sure to do, he was cut off by the arrival of the professors. "That will be enough, Mr. Weasley," said Professor Snape coolly, in that frightening way that he had. The effect was slightly ruined when the canary shat on his shoulder.

"BOTH OF YOU TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE NOW!" he shouted, losing his temper.

Both Ron and Malfoy were led away by professors. Ginny shoved some more students out of the way in her haste to reach Harry and Hermione, who were hovering by the Gryffindor table. "What happened?" she demanded breathlessly.

"Malfoy tried to slip him a Canary Cream," grumbled Harry. He was red-faced from anger but Hermione just looked wide-eyed and shocked. "But Dean got it instead. Then Ron went mental ranting about using Fred and George's jokes against him. Then Malfoy started shouting too, something about blood traitors and that rot and he punched Ron in the fact. Then Ron punched _him_ in the face and after that I lost track of who punched who. There was a lot of punching."

Ginny sighed. "How could Ron be so stupid?"

"Ron?" Hermione spoke up. "Malfoy deserved it!" Ginny looked at the older girl funny. Wasn't Hermione always yelling at them about not breaking the rules and giving in to Malfoy's taunts? It wasn't anything worse than the pranks Fred and George pulled every single day of their Hogwarts tenure.

Ginny didn't have time to argue with her, however; McGonagall appeared and shooed them all off to class. Ginny tried to engage the professor and apologize for her brother's behavior but McGonagall wouldn't hear of it. "You and your brother are different people, Weasley," she said and threatened to take house points if Ginny was late for Charms.

The Gryffindors, Dean especially, couldn't wait for the upcoming Quidditch match. They all wanted to get revenge on the Slytherins, and Malfoy in particular.

In response, during each class, Professor McGonagall paired the fifth years up. Normally she allowed them to choose their own partners, but after Ron and Malfoy's scene in the Great Hall she began picking for them. She always put members of different houses together. Ginny tried valiantly to be sweet to the Slytherin boy she was shackled with, but he didn't want any of it.

It was hard to read McGonagall's expression. No matter what she always looked strict, but Ginny thought there was a little sadness in her expression whenever she dismissed class. The professor was trying so hard. But Ginny was beginning to think it would take a miracle for the four Houses of Hogwarts to unite the way she wanted them to.

Because of this, Ginny wasn't nearly as excited for Quidditch as she normally was when the morning of the match dawned. She had the distinct feeling that something horrible was going to happen. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad that Ron and Malfoy were being allowed to play. It made Ron happy. But they were not likely to get violent if the both of them were sitting on the sidelines.

Being the only girl on the team, she got dressed in her sport robes by herself, watching herself in the mirror as she fastened the clasps and pulled on her gloves. The last time she had done this, she realized, she had been a different person. She had been angry. And the time before that she had been even different still. Then she had been just a girl. They had changed her, she realized, the Amazons, McGonagall, and Narcissa.

She had stopped thinking of the blonde woman as "Mrs. Malfoy" some time ago. That was too formal and she rather felt like the two of them were friends now even though they only shared a brief exchage. Ginny hoped her friend was safely tucked away in Otrera. She asked Harry every morning if You-Know-Who was still angry, knowing that as long as he was angry, then things were going well.

"You ready, Gin?" Ron asked, poking his head in.

"Yeah," she replied, uncertainly. "Don't kill him," she said suddenly.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Malfoy," she explained. "If you kill him we'll lose all those points Hermione got for being the first person in a hundred years to get a perfect on one of McGonagall's tests."

That made her brother laugh. "Okay, I promise. I wasn't going to kill him anyway." Ginny looked at him quizzically and he explained. "I was going to hex him into next week."

Ginny grinned. "Don't do that either. Just keep the Quaffle out of the hoops."

Feeling better, she went to the pitch with a smile on her face. She knew they could beat Slytherin. Dean and Seamus weren't the most battle-tested Chasers; but she had learned her stuff from Charlie Weasley himself and Harry was the best Seeker in an age. There would be no problem on the offensive end. All Ron had to do was relax. He really could be a first rate Keeper if he just kept his head out of it.

She mounted her broom and watched closely as Madam Hooch brought out the balls. She set the Snitch free, then the Bludgers. The last to come out of the wooden box was the Quaffle, the only ball Ginny cared about. Ginny flew over so she was staring down the Slytherin captain. He thought because he was taller he would reach the Quaffle first when Madam Hooch let it go; he was wrong.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and released the final ball. Ginny surged forward. It happened almost in slow motion. She saw her fingers reaching out for the red ball. She saw her hand grab it deftly away from the Slytherin. And then there was pain like she had felt only once before.

She gasped, "Tom!" and then everything went black.

When she woke up, it was dark out. She turned her head left and saw empty beds lining the Hosptial wing walls. There was a window on the opposite wall and she could make out a few stars through the foggy glass. Next to her bed was an old nightstand. There were cards and things of hers piled on and a Weasley sweater bearing the letter 'G' was on top. _Ron_, she thought. _Ron was here. _But now the wing was empty.By the sweater was a half-empty bottle of disgusting looking potion. Ginny swallowed and knew where that awful taste in her mouth came from.

Slowly, pushing through the pain, she turned her head to the right and saw Draco Malfoy. He was sitting leisurely on one of the beds watching her, as if he had nothing better to do.

"Good morning," he said calmly.

"What happened?" she asked, still groggy.

"I cursed the Quaffle," he replied blithely.

"Oh," said Ginny, relieved. "It wasn't Tom then."

This wasn't going the way Draco Malfoy planned. She wasn't supposed to be happy he cursed her. "Who the bloody hell is Tom?"

She didn't answer his question, just shot him a look. "Why'd you curse the Quaffle? Wanted to escape an embarrassing Slytherin defeat?"

"No," he hissed. "I did it to get you here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "But what if someone else got to the Quaffle first?"

"They wouldn't. You're the best Chaser at Hogwarts," he said dismissively.

"Was that a compliment?" she wondered.

This _definitely_ wasn't going the way Draco Malfoy planned. "NO!" he shouted. His face got all pinched up when he was angry. It reminded Ginny of a squalling infant.

"All right," she sighed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

His face darkened. "I want you to suffer, you miserable piece of trash! And I want you to know it was me that caused it. I know things—things they don't teach here at Hogwarts and you won't like me when I'm angry. I can hurt you, Ginny Weasley, just like I did tonight. I can hurt your brother too, and your parents. The whole lot of you should be cast out of the wizarding world! And—and fed to wild dogs or something…"

Ginny wanted to grab him, punch him, beat him senseless and stab him in the eye but as he yelled, taunted and berated her something strange happened. His face turned into his mother's, and then (even queerer) into that of Professor McGonagall. What would they think if she hit him? Professor McGonagall had trusted her. And Narcissa Malfoy, she loved her son, surely he wasn't entirely worthless if she saw something in him.

"Stop it!" Ginny cried. "That's it. It's over. We're even."

"Even?" he hissed.

"Yeah, I almost killed you. You almost killed me. Even."

Part of her expected him to spit in her face. Another part of her expected him to accept her offer of truce and leave. No part of her expected him to laugh. "If you think this is about Quidditch then you're dumber than I thought," he snarled.

"What are you on about?" she wondered.

"My mum!" he shouted. "I'm not dumb! She Apparated into Devon on Christmas Eve! I don't know why, but your stupid family's the only wizards anywhere near the Apparation point… You took her."

Then, it was Ginny's turn to laugh. "_Took her?_"

If anything her laughter only made him more furious. "She's my mum! If you think I'm going to let a bunch of blood traitors kidnap her then—"

In a second, Ginny was upon him despite the pain. She shoved him against the wall and pointed her wand in his face. "Blood traitors! You want to talk about blood traitors!" she hissed. "How about this? Your dear old dad and loving aunt killed Sirius Black, who was from one of the oldest and _purest _magical families in England, on the orders of a half-blood Dumbledore rescued from a Muggle orphanage! So you can take your pureblood propaganda and shove it up your arse!"

She smacked him in the head, just once, for good measure.

"As far as I can tell, your mum is the only one in the family with any brains. You should be on your knees thanking Dumbledore for protecting her!"

He looked up at her confused and irritated. "Protecting her?" he spat. "She wouldn't. She doesn't. My father—"

"Your father is rotting in Azkaban! And if you think You-Know-Who couldn't have him out of there with a snap of his fingers, you're dumber than _I _thought. Your whole family is on his shit list! So if I were you, I'd be thinking of ways to be smart like your mum instead of rotting like your dad."

For once, Draco Malfoy had the decency to shut his mouth and not say something vile in response. Ginny folded her arms across her chest.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked after they glared at each other for a while.

Ginny sighed. "I love my parents, all right. But there's no way they could ever take your mum somewhere she didn't want to go."

At least he was prepared to believe her about that.

He eyed her suspiciously. Still glaring, he folded his legs underneath him, tailor style, and sat on the bed, with his fingers tented. "Where is she?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," replied Ginny.

He looked at her with those piercing gray eyes and she felt as though he could see right through her. "You're a bloody awful liar."

Ginny harrumphed. "Right, so I _do _know where she is." She added significantly, "The only other person who knows is _Dumbledore_ so you can just forget about trying to harass it out of Ron."

"I'll just harass it out of you then," he said easily. He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to look menacing.

Ginny was not impressed. She was a Gryffindor; it took more than an angry sixteen-year-old to scare her. "Maybe if you were a bit kinder, like your Mum… then I might help you. But no, I can see you're determined to be a prat. So I'll just toddle back to the Tower. I'm feeling much better."

Again, he glared. "You talk a lot."

She smiled sweetly. "Now you sound like my brothers."

Then she did something that she would be proud of for the rest of her life; she left him sitting there with his mouth hanging open.

Then next morning he accosted her as she descended for breakfast. She was clopping down the stairs in her too-big shoes, wishing she was still asleep when an arm reached out from no where and pulled her into the shadows. "Okay, Weasley, what do you want?"

She yawned. "I'd like roommates that don't snore…" After a moment of thought she added, "and world peace."

He rolled his eyes, clearly not amused by her quip. "I want to see my Mum. You know where she is. Now we can go back and forth like this all day or you can just tell me what you want."

"What do you mean?" she asked, blinking.

"Money, new robes, a Firebolt…" She stared back at him blankly. "No, how about a trip? Some place sunny? No… your own island! I could buy a small island."

Ginny's jaw hit the floor. Was he really offering her anything money could buy? Instinctively, Ginny's mind flipped through all the things she wanted: shoes that fit, a potions kit that didn't leak, tickets to see the Weird Sisters. She was about to open her mouth and say that what she really wanted was a new house for her family, one with enough rooms for all her brothers, a new kitchen for her mother and a big garage that her father could tinker in.

But… that wasn't what she wanted, not really. She wanted a home, yes. She wanted a place she could go and be safe, where all her family was alive and well. She wanted it to be like it was before—before the war. Holy crap, she really did want world peace.

In that moment there was only one thing she could think of: _Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes and we must unite inside her or we'll crumble from within. _

She was more than a little shocked with herself (but certainly less shocked than Malfoy was) when she said: "I want you to be nice. To everyone! Even Muggleborns and Hufflepuffs."

"I'm serious," he growled.

"S-so am I," she stuttered.

Irritated, and clearly thinking she was mocking him, he stomped off to breakfast and didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

A few days passed. Ginny heard rumors about Draco Malfoy acting oddly but he always walked the other way when he spotted her. She went about her routine and was sitting in the library, studying Potions, when an unmistakable voice announced, "This is bloody hard, Weasley."

She looked up to see him standing above her. Without being invited, he flopped down in the chair beside her. "Do you know Hagrid was in the Great Hall telling Granger about breeding his bitches and I didn't say _anything?_"

"Erm," she said. "That's… good?"

He glared at her. "Now I know why you're so peevish all the time and why Potter's always shouting at everyone."

She couldn't help it. She started to laugh. He shot her a look but it didn't help, it was more pathetic than menacing really. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself. Madam Pince would be on them in a minute if she suspected mirth.

"So—erm—what else have you done? Nice stuff," she asked.

He sighed dramatically as if he were in the torture chamber having his thumbs screwed. "Well yesterday I stood on Longbottom's foot and I _apologized._ He nearly wet himself. Then McGonagall asked Goyle about Switching Spells in Transfiguration. Of course he didn't know the answer and said something stupid but I told him it was a 'good effort' anyway." He paused dramatically for effect, indicating that this was the pièce de résistance. "And after lunch today Hannah Abbott asked me have a drink with her at Madam Puddifoot's next Hogsmeade weekend and I _didn't _laugh in her face."

Ginny grinned. "That's great!" she enthused.

"Doesn't feel great," he grumbled. "Nobody appreciates my wit when it's in my head."

"I appreciate it," said Ginny. Tentatively she reached out to pat his hand.

He looked from her to his hand and back to her. "Did you just touch me?"

"Yep," she smiled. "Going to say something nasty about it?"

"No," he sighed dejectedly. "Why are you making me do this? Can't I just give you diamonds or something normal?"

Ginny frowned. She would like diamonds. She'd never even seen a real diamond that she knew of. "No," she admitted sadly. "The Sorting Hat says the only way to restore peace is for us all bond together."

"That's why you're making me do this? Because of that ratty old hat?" he growled.

"That ratty old hat has lived in the castle since the Founders' day; no one—thing—knows more about Hogwarts that it does," she insisted.

"All right," he grumbled, "The hat says the four houses have to be nice to each other. The way I see it, I've already been nice to a Gryffindor, Slytherin and a Hufflepuff today."

"Yes, but you have to unite _all _the Houses…"

A wicked grin spread across his face and he stood up abruptly. "Oi! Oi, Ravenclaw boy! You!" he shouted at a gaggle of Ravenclaws who were, predictably, studying. When that particular Ravenclaw didn't answer, he turned to Ginny, "What's his name?"

"Stuart Ackerley."

"Oi! Stu! Stu Ackerley!" cried Draco.

A very confused Stuart turned around to find Malfoy calling his name. He went white with fear but somehow got out of his chair and came forward when Draco beckoned him over.

"Here," said Draco proudly. "Have a galleon." He reached into his pocket and produced a shiny coin for the bewildered Ravenclaw, then shooed him away.

"There. Four Houses." He turned to look at Ginny expectantly. "Can I see my mum now?"

She knew Narcissa Malfoy loved her son and would want to see him. She also knew he had done his best, however pitiful that was. But none of those things were what made her agree. She looked at his hopeful face and thought that walking through the forest with him wouldn't be _so _bad. He had, after all, not laughed at Hannah Abbott.

"All right," she said. "Meet me tonight after dinner."

Draco was very prompt. He was waiting for her when she emerged from the Great Hall. He was dressed in heavy fur-lined robe, presumably in case Narcissa was being stored in an iceberg. Ginny felt underdressed. But it cheered her to think how overdressed he'd feel once he saw the tunics the Amazons wore.

"Where are we going?" he asked, pleading slightly.

"We have to go into the Forbidden Forest," Ginny whispered.

"Oh." He didn't seem to keen on the idea.

"It's not so bad; Hagrid goes in all the time and he's fine."

He stiffened. "Don't worry about me; I've seen worse."

She didn't ask him what he meant, just stepped out into the night air and followed the path she had journeyed in her dreams hundreds of times.

The Amazon camp of Otrera was unmistakable. Ginny felt memories of her happy summer there coming back to her unbidden. The fire in the center was warm and inviting. She wanted to run up to the women sitting around it and show off her new archery skills. She had been practicing as much as possible. She bet she could even rival some of their own shooters.

But then she heard a voice. It was a friendly and familiar voice but it brought back less pleasant memories of the Amazons. For a brief moment she was once again looking at Kingsley Shacklebolt dead on the forest floor

"Ginny?" said Priene. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny stiffened. "I've brought Draco Malfoy to see his mother," she said as formally as possible. She lifted her hand to indicate the sullen boy on her right.

"Oh," said Priene. She moved to hug Ginny, but Ginny shrugged her off.

"Is she here?" Ginny asked.

"Um," replied Priene, clearly hurt. "I'll get her for you."

"Wow, Weasley," Malfoy spoke up. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny demanded.

"I think you made that girl cry." Malfoy was clearly impressed.

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and tried her best to ignore him and the nagging feeling of guilt in her stomach. He didn't know Priene or what she had done, so he couldn't judge her. Kingsley was dead. He was a good man. She didn't know him that well but he had been on their side. That had to count for something. Still, a little voice inside her head that sounded something like both of her parents speaking at once told her that being mean to Priene wouldn't bring Kingsley back.

Instead of paying attention to Draco Malfoy, she watched the Amazons go about their daily routines. She saw the elderly woman who always sat around the fire making bows. Ginny remembered the morning that woman had teased her about pretending to be asleep. For some reason it made her sad to think of happier times.

"Clymene!" called a voice and a tall woman emerged from the trees. Ginny recognized her as Harmonthe, Priene's older sister and the de facto leader of the Amazon tribe.

When Harmonthe saw Ginny and Malfoy, she nodded her head to them in way of greeting, as if she expected them. Then she went back to the old woman, Clymene. "How many today?" she asked.

"Over a hundred," said the old woman, flexing her fingers.

Harmonthe didn't look pleased. "We'll need more than that. Thalestris must be avenged."

Clymene sighed. "There is always someone to be killing," she replied in her thoughtful uneducated speech. "I make the arrows as fast as I can. Hovering won't make them faster." The other Amazon harrumphed but Clymene continued on. "It should only take one arrow to avenge poor Thalestris anyway. Unless the rumors are true…"

"What rumors?" asked Harmonthe. She tried to give the impression she had no idea what Clymene was talking about but it was obvious did.

"Aella swears it was a Hydra that killed Thalestris," said the old woman as she continued her work making arrows.

"That's ridiculous. Hydras live in swamps. This is a forest."

"Strange days…" muttered Clymene. "And no centaur could kill Thalestris. She had a surer shot than your mother."

"You're right about that, it was no centaur that killed her. But no Hydra would venture into this forest. It was something else. Maybe one of those Acromantula…"

"Aella says they've been hit too. Their leader dead; Aragog, they called him. They say it was natural causes." She spat as if to show what she thought of that theory.

"You're full of gossip and stories," admonished Harmonthe. "I won't hear any more of this."

Clymene gestured for Harmonthe to leave then, which she did. The old woman turned back to the fire, paused briefly to smile toothlessly and wave at Ginny, and then went about her arrow making.

Then she heard Malfoy make a noise that caused her to turn around. Narcissa Malfoy had emerged from a tent with Priene. She looked about the same as Ginny remembered her. Except her shiny hair was a bit out of place and she was wearing Amazon garb. Except she didn't wear it quite the way the Amazons did. It made her look shapely whereas it just made Priene look like she was wearing a potato sack.

"Mum?" said Draco, part disbelieving and part hopeful.

Narcissa turned and looked up at her son with large, shining eyes. She pushed her unruly hair down unconsciously. First she smiled, then she frowned. "Draco…" she breathed. There was fear in her voice but it was overpowered by the adoration. Her eyes flicked quickly to Ginny to put the situation together, then, as if couldn't bear not to look at him, back to Draco. "What are you doing here?"

Draco stared at her, dumbstruck. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Oh." She stepped toward him and put her hand on his arm. Ginny thought that in the Malfoy family, that was probably the same as a hug. "I wanted to send you a bird but it would have been intercepted. Dumbledore assured me you would be safe at Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore…" he repeated. "So, it's true."

The two Malfoys stared at one another, studying each other, for a good while. Ginny wondered if perhaps there was some sort of mental game they were playing that she wasn't privy to. If it had been her family, they would've shouted at each other quite a bit more. The Malfoys used fewer words but got the job done all the same. In the end, Draco closed his eyes in acceptance and Narcissa smiled while stroking her son's arm.

"How is school?" she asked, straightening his collar.

"Fine," he mumbled. "Gryffindor beat us at Quidditch." He shot a look at Ginny.

Narcissa followed his lead. "Are you on the Quidditch team, Ginny dear?"

"Er, yeah," replied Ginny.

"How lovely," she said brightly. "I always thought it looked fun but my parents wouldn't allow it." She turned back to Draco and folded her arms across her chest. She asked, disapprovingly, "What have you been eating?"

"I eat," he grumbled, much the same way Ginny's brothers did when their mum asked them the same question.

"You don't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"

Draco harrumphed. "I sleep on a feather bed. What about _you_?"

"Oh," said Narcissa, not nearly as brightly. "I've managed to get almost all the rocks out from under my blankets."

Her son narrowed his eyes. "So… you like it here?"

"It's not Malfoy Manor, I'll grant you. But it has its charms. When I get up in the middle of the night, I don't have to fumble around in the dark for the toilet. I just pick any tree I want."

Draco didn't seem to think that was a ringing endorsement of Otrera. Likewise, Ginny doubted rich witches were going to be spending their holidays here from now on. But, it did sound like Narcissa was determined. She had her brave face screwed on tightly.

"You're going to stay," said Draco. It was not a question.

"It would be rude to leave now when the Amazons have been so hospitable," agreed his mother. "They even let me have extra portions of whatever monstrous thing they've killed for dinner."

Draco smirked. "At least you're eating well."

Narcissa smiled, her teeth shone perfectly white. She leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her son's silvery head. "Such a smart boy," she murmured, stroking down the hairs she had knocked aside.

"I'll… come back for you… when it's safe," he said, in way of parting.

"Of course you will," she responded.

Once again, the older woman turned to Ginny. She stepped gracefully over the rock that separated them. "Ginny, dear, I expect you to get my son back to Hogwarts without him being gored by something beastly."

"Er," said Ginny. "Yeah. Okay."

"Good!" she exclaimed. She murmured, "I trust you," before leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of Ginny's head.

Draco looked decidedly jealous.

Malfoy was different on the trip back to Hogwarts. When she told him to stop for some reason, or change course, he listened without insulting her and did what he was told. His face was strange without a smirk or a sneer; Ginny could tell Narcissa was his mother when he looked like that. It made her wonder, if things had been different, could they have been friends?

Neither of them said anything until they came upon the remains of a large decaying animal. It looked as though it had been a centaur before it died. The huge gashes in its sides told them it had not been natural causes that killed it.

"The Amazons think there's something evil in the forest," Ginny whispered. She felt the odd urge to bury it. But she knew spending unnecessary amounts of time in the forest was not a good idea.

"Worse that what's outside the forest?" Draco asked.

Ginny looked at him. His face was partially hidden by shadows but even so, he seemed exposed. She wondered if he had ever admitted that what was brewing in the wizarding world was evil before. He was oddly calm about his reversal of opinion. She had expected the conversation with Narcissa to be a huge revelation. She had expected more shouting.

"We'd best move," said Ginny. Draco nodded.

They walked through the trees. The leaves crunched beneath Draco's feet. Ginny was a bit lighter on her feet, but all the small sounds rang in her ears. If anyone wanted to find them, all they had to do was listen. She thought she would have a heart attack before they got back to Hagrid's hut. But a few hours later, they saw the light through the trees and then suddenly the trees were gone and Hogwarts lay before them, still asleep.

"What are you going to do now?" Ginny asked, genuinely curious.

"What do you mean?" he responded, surprised.

"Well, I don't know. I just thought… you could go to Dumbledore. He'd protect you like your mum."

He snorted derisively. "He can't."

Ginny reddened. "Of course he can! Why would your Mum trust him if he couldn't?"

"Ginny…" He looked sad. "She'll be safe, but I won't."

Strangely, that made Ginny angry. Why was he being stupid? Boys and their martyr complexes! They always insisted that no one could help them and that their problems were so much worse than anyone else's! But if they only stuck together like the Amazons then they could defeat any foe! Dumbledore would help him; she knew he would. And if Dumbledore wouldn't, then she would! Narcissa trusted her to protect him!

"I could talk to Dumbledore for you if you want…" she offered.

Draco smiled at her sadly. "Ginny," he said, with a look on her face that made her heart break. "You must be the nicest person I ever met or something. It'd be a lot easier if we could go back to fighting."

"I-I don't understand." Ginny felt tears growing behind her eyes and she didn't know why.

"Didn't Potter tell you?" he asked.

Ginny blinked. Harry? Harry never told her anything. He told Ron and Hermione; but she wasn't part of the circle. She had given up on being in Harry's confidence a long time ago.

Painfully slowly, he rolled up is sleeve. There, in bold black that marred the smooth whiteness of his skin was the Dark Mark. "I'm already in," he said. He turned and walked with quick strides toward the castle. He didn't look back.

After visiting the Amazons, Draco Malfoy stopped harassing her. He didn't even mock Neville anymore. Part of her had hoped he'd seek her out, and ask for help; maybe tell her all of his secrets. Instead he avoided her in the halls. Those few times she did see him, he reminded Ginny of a balloon someone had let the air out of. She felt horrible; especially when she thought of the time she had nearly killed him.

She wanted to take him into her arms and cuddle him, the way her mother used to do when she had a nightmare. She lay awake in her four-poster at night and thought of what the Sorting Hat had sung. She knew that she and Draco Malfoy were united from within, but it didn't make matters better. If anything, things were worse. He was a Death Eater. They said Death Eaters never got away from Voldemort. Regulus Black had only lasted a week. And he hadn't been sixteen and scared like Draco was.

One morning, after wondering after him for nearly a month, she decided it was time to take the matters into her own hands, since he clearly was too proud to come to her. She decided to write him a letter, telling him she was there if he needed her. Ginny went to the library and sat for a very long time, contemplating what to say. Finally, after several drafts and much wasted parchment, Ginny settled on:

_Draco:_

_ Are you all right? If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. _

_ Ginny Weasley_

It wasn't Shakespeare. But it got the point across and wasn't too pushy. Ginny felt rather proud of herself when she sent if off with Pig (who she trusted not to alert Ron). She sent the tiny owl to Draco's rooms, hoping to avoid any prying eyes. She couldn't imagine what would happen if Pig was seen delivering mail to Draco Malfoy in the Great Hall.

She waited the next day for Owl Post and was more than a little disappointed when she received none. After classes she went to the Owlery and found Pig in his cage. "Pigwidgeon!" she shouted. But he hopped forward happily, clearly pleased with himself. He had delivered the letter, she was sure. But Draco hadn't sent a response.

Finally, a week later, when she had managed to think up the most ridiculous reasons why he hadn't responded to her well-meant note, she found a piece of parchment on her bed in Gryffindor Tower.

_You can't help. _

Ginny read it at least a hundred times in the coming months. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't wonder what the message meant. She thought Draco needed a friend. She rarely saw Draco with Crabbe and Goyle anymore and she was sure the best cure for the blues was to have someone to talk to. Unless there was something else—something he wasn't telling her. She filled her head with wild images of him in some sort of horrible danger.

But if he was in danger, why didn't he go to Dumbledore as his mother had? Surely there was no problem for Dumbledore couldn't solve.

The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that "you can't help" was meant as a slight. She was a Weasley, after all, and why would he confide in a Weasley? How could a Weasley be of any use to a Malfoy? The arrogant prat!

She spent the rest of the term determined _not _to think about Draco Malfoy. She threw herself into preparations for her O.W.L.s. She even started dating Harry Potter, something she never would have thought was possible a year ago. Harry was a great guy. He didn't talk about the war with her; they spent their time together blissfully avoiding any topic of consequence. And that included Draco Malfoy.

In fact, it was months before his name passed her lips again. It wasn't until that horrible night when Professor Albus Dumbledore, who had always seems so indomitable, was found lying lifelessly at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower that the blond Slytherin boy was forced back into her consciousness…


	7. Sorry, Charlie

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters are copyright and trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, etc. I'm not making any money off this. So don't sue, all you'll get is a button.

Notes: I'd like to thank everyone that emailed me about this story and wouldn't let me forget it existed. I'm hoping I will be a bit more regular with updates, as I would ideally like to have it finished before book 7 comes out, but we'll see how that goes.

Chapter 6: Sorry, Charlie

The world had gone mad. At least as far as Ginny Weasley could tell.

When Ginny was a child, only one girl had ever come over to the Burrow to play with her. That girl described the experience as "mad." Mad because Fred and George kept setting things on fire. Mad because of the gnomes and the ghoul. Mad because of the noise. Ginny never spoke to that girl again. She couldn't even remember her name, just the dull fury at hearing her family being described that way. She knew the truth. Noise was normal. It was the silence that was the true indicator of madness.

And the silence at the Burrow was interminable.

Molly Weasley was not a fragile woman. In fact, if asked to describe her mother, Ginny would've talked about how tough and strong-willed she was. But Bill had jut been savaged by a werewolf, and it had gotten to her. Ginny knew that her mother constantly feared for the safety of her children. Molly had focused mostly on protecting Ginny, perhaps because she was the youngest. Bill, on the other hand, was the oldest and most experienced. If he wasn't safe, it threw everything at the Burrow out of whack.

Bill was still at St. Mungo's. Fleur stayed with him most of the time, except to come to the Burrow and sniffle dramatically. Charlie left not long after Bill was injured. His superiors had suggested training the dragons for wars—something that hadn't been done since the Middle Ages. Percy sent one surreptitious letter to their Mum, saying he was all right but he continued to cut himself off from the family. Ron was also cut off. Being an underage wizard of limited ability, he had decided he should naturally go off on some quest with Harry Potter to save the world.

It just left Ginny to stay with Molly and comfort her. Well, really, the twins were around too. But their presence only distracted everyone further because they refused to be distracting. They should've been turning people into canaries. But no! They _demurred _out of _respect _for their mother's nerves! As if that had ever stopped them before. It just made it that much obvious that the world had changed since last they had been home.

Ginny wiled away her hours alternatively wrapped in her bed linens (pretending she was safely ensconced in a bubble) and pacing the floor of the living room while her mother sat listlessly on the sofa.

Ginny couldn't blame her mother. Molly feared that her children would be hurt, or worse, killed, in the war. And there was a lot to worry about. New reports of Death Eater incidents came in every day. It didn't stand to reason that the Weasley family would be untouched forever, especially with Ron sticking his neck out all the time.

Ginny had an added weight on her shoulders. She couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy and his mother, particularly now that the news that Lucius had escaped from prison had trickled down to her. Though, to hear her father tell it, it wasn't so much "escaping" as "being freed after Lord Voldemort deigned to acknowledge his existence."

Still, Draco was in terrible danger if that was the case. He had not only failed the mission he had been given by Lord Voldemort , who wasn't notoriously forgiving but his mother was now being called a traitor. If his mother was a traitor, suspicion would be cast on Draco since blood meant everything to the Death Eaters. Ginny wondered if he was already dead, just that his body was hidden somewhere that it wouldn't be found for centuries.

She tried not to think about Draco at all. She knew she should be fretting about Harry. He was her boyfriend, after all. Or, he had been before he dumped her at Albus Dumbledore's funeral. Ginny was still miffed about that. As if a funeral was a good time for dumping someone. People were already depressed enough! It was just plain rude. At least, that was her rationalization for thinking about Draco more, at least. She didn't pretend it was a good reason.

The funeral had been a surreal experience. Professor Albus Dumbledore had been killed. That was odd enough in and of itself, since Ginny had been raised believing that he was the greatest wizard that ever lived. Worse, people said that Draco had killed him. Ginny knew that wasn't true, and not only because Harry had said otherwise. She had seen the sadness in Draco's eyes when they left the Forbidden Forest . She hadn't known at the time what task he had been given, but she had known he didn't want to complete it.

The funeral was held at Hogwarts, which was as it should have been because Albus Dumbledore was Hogwarts. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood out among the crowd. For decades, everyone had looked to Professor Dumbledore when times got bad. And now, they looked to Harry—their last hope. Ginny knew many of the students no longer believed that Harry Potter could defeat Lord Voldemort. If he was able to kill Dumbledore then certainly he'd be able to get to Potter, who hadn't even finished school yet.

Looking back, Ginny realized she hadn't looked to Harry for protection during the service. She looked to someone else who also had the monumental task of filling Dumbledore's shoes ahead of her. Next to the white tomb, Minerva McGonagall stood tall with her back straight, in all black that swirled around her like grief. She was Headmistress now. She would occupy the strange room behind the statue of the gargoyle. And though she was no Albus Dumbledore (as there was but one Albus Dumbledore and he would never be equaled), she was, in Ginny's eyes, the one brilliant hope that bleak day. Chaos was coming.

_Make them come to order! _she willed her teacher _The way you teach those ickle firsties there will be no shenanigans_ _in your class. Make them fall in line_!

Many parents were threatening to take their children out of Hogwarts. They said it was not safe. Ginny scowled when she heard that. She believed that Hogwarts was still the safest place in the world. It was not going to the school that made the students unsafe; it had been the students who made the school unsafe.

While she paced her living room that summer, Ginny thought of sending Professor McGonagall a letter of support, but had no idea what to say. Ginny wanted her to know that she believed in her. Everything she wrote sounded like some annoying little girl hero-worshipping. It was not the sentiment Ginny wanted to convey. She knew McGonagall was a much more powerful and experienced witch than herself and probably didn't need support from a fifteen-year-old, but she wanted to express a certain level of emotional solidarity between them. She just lacked the right words.

Or rather, she had the word—sisters. Wasn't that what the Amazons called each other regardless of genetic links? They were sisters in purpose—sisters in battle.

Ginny was afraid of saying this, however. McGonagall had warned her about the Amazons. Kingsley's death had shown her that the "sisters" were not people she wanted to be associated with. She didn't want to seem like she was condoning their behavior.

"Ginny, dear, please stop pacing and sit down," her mother said, a bit too sweetly. She was resting on the sofa, with her arm across her forehead like she was doing some very disturbing thinking.

Ginny stopped pacing, but didn't sit. "Why?" she asked.

"We need to talk, sweetheart" said Molly.

That was two terms of endearments in as many sentences. Ginny did the maths in her head and decided that could only mean her mother was going to ask her to do something she did not want to do. She raised an eyebrow.

"Sit," said Molly.

With back stiff and shoulders straight, Ginny sat. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "Is Ron all right?"

A pained expression crossed her mother's face. She hadn't heard from Ron in two days. "It's not about Ron, dear," she said slowly. "Your father and I have been thinking… and we'd like to send you to the Salem Witches' Institute next term."

"What?!" cried Ginny, standing up again.

"Sit!" commanded her mother.

Ginny sat.

"It's for your own good, dear; Hogwarts is not safe and we couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you." Her mother reached out and caressed her only daughter's cheek.

It really made it hard for Ginny to stay angry when her mum clearly loved her so much.

"Now Salem doesn't usually take students from other countries, but your father has been talking to some people he knows at the Ministry and he might be able to pull a few strings for you…"

"Mum," interrupted Ginny. "I don't want to go to Salem."

"I know, sweetheart," consoled Molly, "you'll miss your friends and won't know anyone, but I'm sure you'll adjust."

"That's not it," grumbled Ginny. "You always try to pack me off when something gets bad. I can help! I can fight!"

"Ginny, you don't understand. Last time," her mother shuddered, "it was bad. I don't want anything to happen to you. Hogwarts isn't safe!"

"Hogwarts was never safe!" Ginny all but shouted. "You didn't pull me out after I got possessed by a diary and nearly killed Hermione!"

Her mother looked stricken. "Dumbledore promised us he would look after you…." she began.

"He didn't! Last time you tried to send me away it went wrong! I ended up seeing Kingsley killed! What makes you think I'll even make it to Salem?!"

Molly frowned. "Don't raise your voice at me!" she shouted (ironically, much louder than Ginny had been). "We are only trying to keep you out of danger!"

"Well you can't!" cried Ginny.

The two of them regarded each other, both breathing heavily and glaring. "You're going," said Molly.

"I'm not!" said Ginny.

When it was clear to her that her mother would not be moved, Ginny did the only thing that a fifteen-year-old girl could do in her situation. She stormed out. She raced out of the living room and up the stairs, stomping all the way. She saw Fred and George listening in on the fight but didn't care. She rushed past them. When she reached her bedroom, she slammed the door shut behind her. In a fit of temper, she threw some stuffed animals at the wall.

She couldn't believe they were trying to do this to her _again. _

Molly and Ginny Weasley did not speak to each other for a week. It made dinner a very awkward affair for Arthur Weasley, who agreed with his wife that their daughter would not be safe at Hogwarts but wasn't too keen on the idea of sending her to another continent. Molly kept trying to bring him into the fight to back her up, and he would, but only wearily repeating the words she had told him to say.

Ginny did not budge from her position of martyrdom.

She did not understand why it was all right for her brother Ron, who was only seventeen months older than her, to quit school and run around the country looking for artifacts (or whatever else he was doing with Harry Potter) and she had to be buried away in some girls' school. Why did they trust him and not her? Fred and George insisted it was only because she was the youngest, but Ginny felt differently.

It was because she was a girl.

The idea made her so mad. She had spent the last four years proving that she was one of the most competent young witches at Hogwarts. She could out hex Ron any day. She could also out fly him. And she was pretty good with a bow and arrow. She didn't understand why everyone insisted on treating her like some damsel in distress—or worse, an idiot who couldn't take care of herself.

Harry thought the same thing. He ditched her to "protect" her. She wasn't sure what he thought Lord Voldemort would do to her, but she figured it was probably worse to not be trusted by someone she thought she loved. Maybe he had confused her with that whiney Cho Chang.

Ginny was bitter. She briefly considered taking her broom and flying to Hogwarts. She wanted to talk to Professor McGonagall. _She'd _talk sense into her parents. But then Ginny remembered the last time she'd attempted to fly to Hogwarts and thought better of her plan. Besides, McGonagall probably had a lot bigger things to worry about. Like how to keep Hogwarts running and finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. It didn't seem right to burden her with Ginny's problems. It was her own stupid family. She needed to deal with them herself.

Perhaps if there was some sort of incident—some way for Ginny to prove herself in battle. She'd have to keep her ear to the ground for any Order of the Phoenix news she could get her hands on. Maybe Tonks would bring her along on a mission. She was a girl too; she must know what it's like to be underestimated. Although, Tonks had been different since she fell in love with Professor Lupin. Maybe it was best to find a way by herself.

She had all summer.

Things were too awkward with her mother for Ginny to go downstairs and stay with her. She had managed to stay in her room for two days straight, without talking to her mum or going downstairs for meals. She was getting good at transfiguring household things into food. She was just at the point where she was thinking that her actions were a bit childish and perhaps were not helping her cause as much as she would hope when she heard the noises.

Arthur, Fred and George had all left for work, so her mum was the only other person in the house. Ginny had never known her mum to make this much noise. It sounded like Fred and George were setting off fireworks again.

Ginny wandered downstairs wondering if her mum was having some sort of fit. She could think of no good reason why her mum would be making so much racket. As Ginny descended the stairs, her heart descended into her stomach. She began to hear shouting voices as she got closer to the kitchen, and one of them was distinctively male—and angry. Attempting to be stealthy, she hid herself behind the clock with one-hand and peeked her into the kitchen.

Molly Weasley's back was to Ginny. Over her shoulder, Ginny could see the haughty face of Lucius Malfoy. His hair was longer, and his face was thinner, but it was definitely the man of her nightmares. Ginny gasped and ducked back out into the living room. She glanced quickly up at the grandfather clock; her mum's hand had jumped up to "mortal peril" along with Ron and… Charlie's?

Ginny didn't have time to wonder what the dragons had done to Charlie to put him in mortal peril, she had to focus on helping her mum. Malfoy must not have known that she was home. She hadn't come out of her room for two days, and Fred and George had taken to joking that she had tunneled out. If Malfoy had been watching the Burrow, waiting for the right time to strike, he never would have saw her and probably assumed she was gone.

Crawling away from the ruckus in the kitchen, Ginny pulled her wand from her trousers. She knew she had to contact the Order of the Phoenix. Of course, she was still an underage witch and wasn't technically allowed to do magic outside of school. Regardless, Ginny held out her wand, thought of Christmas at the Burrow, and whispered the words "_Expecto Patronum!" _

In all the days they had worked on the Patronus charm in Dumbledore's Army, Ginny had only once been able to produce a viable patronus. This time one erupted from her wand so quickly that she startled herself. She fell back onto her bum and stared at it, almost in disbelief.

The calico cat looked up at her petulantly. It mewed with an eerie other-wordly tinge to the noise.

"Go," said Ginny. "The Order. SOS. Malfoy."

In a flash, her kitten was gone and Ginny was left alone again. She felt lonely and scared at its abrupt departure. She wished there was a way it could take her message to the Order _and _stay with her. The din in the kitchen was getting louder.

Ginny crawled back over to her hiding place behind the other clock, and looked out into the kitchen. Her mother and Lucius were dueling now. Pots and pans continually clattered to the floor as they got caught in the crossfire. As the pair, danced around the wooden table in the center of the kitchen, Ginny caught a glimpse of her mother's face.

Molly Weasley wore a look of complete concentration. Ginny knew Lucius Malfoy to be a deadly opponent, but it was he who was the one on the defensive. He was the one stumbling backwards as her rain of spells hit him. Her dad had once mentioned that Molly Prewett had been the champion dueler their year at Hogwarts. Ginny had always thought it was a joke. Now she was certain it was not.

Malfoy fell backward as another one of Molly's hexes hit him in the chest. He clutched heart while he tumbled to the floor. Her mum's outstretched wand arm was leveled at his head. "Don't move," she said.

He chuckled menacingly and spit out blood on the floor. "I have something I think you'll want to see," he said. "If you kill me, you'll never see him again."

Malfoy opened his closed fist, and produced a small, rolled-up piece of parchment. When he unfurled the crumpled paper, an image appeared directly above it. Ginny had never seen a spell like it. It reminded her of the diary, except you didn't have to fall into the pages to see this memory; it was displayed right in front of you.

The memory was dark at first. There was rustling in the shadows, but Ginny couldn't make out any of the faces. Then there were voices. The first voice she immediately recognized as Malfoy's. He was threatening someone, but the second person was stoically ignoring his taunts.

As the vision became clearer, Ginny was able to recognize something frighteningly familiar. There was a flash of bright red hair in the darkness. Then, after enduring enough abuse, Charlie Weasley said, "Safe your breath, Malfoy. You don't scare me." But the tiny shaking in his voice betrayed to Ginny that he was afraid. He was just trying to be brave, like a good Gryffindor.

In the memory, Malfoy laughed. "_Crucio," _he said.

Charlie screamed. And when he did, Molly Weasley screamed with him.

At that moment, Malfoy saw his opening. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted! Molly fell backward as her wand flew from her hands. She looked up at Malfoy, their roles reversed now, and then looked at the memory, unable to look away from her son for too long.

Charlie was still screaming, the noise almost drowning out what Malfoy said next. "My wife was here before she disappeared," he growled. "You know where she is. Tell me, and I'll let your son live."

"I don't know!" wailed Molly. "Dumbledore took her. I don't know where they went."

Ginny knew her mother was telling the truth but apparently Malfoy didn't believe her. He raised his wand and hit her with the Cruciatus Curse. Mother and son cried out in unison. Ginny's eyes flew to her mum, writhing on the floor, and then to her brother doing the same thing in the memory.

She tried to remember everything she could about the Cruciatus Curse. It seemed like Charlie had been screaming forever. Hadn't Neville's parents gone crazy after being tortured like this? How long before Charlie wasn't Charlie anymore?

"Stop it!" she cried, jumping out from her hiding place. She opened her mouth to tell Lucius Malfoy exactly where his wife was. Just as long as he left Charlie and her Mum alone, she didn't care.

But Lucius hadn't known she was home. When he saw her, he spooked. The curse he hurled at her was lost in the noise of Charlie's screams. Ginny expected green light and rushing death, but it never came.

The Cruciatus Curse usually left the victim with slowed reaction time and dulled senses. So Ginny would never be entirely sure how her mother got herself off the floor and launched herself into the air quickly enough to intercept the spell. But somehow she had. Ginny screamed as her mother crumpled and hit the floor (again).

Ginny looked at her mother's body, and then at her attacker. Malfoy was equally shocked at Molly's reaction time. He had not expected this, probably because he would have never put his body between a curse and his own son. In his shock, he stood gaping long enough for Ginny to raise her wand and shout the first hex that came to her mind: the Bat-Bogey hex.

Flying bats bloomed on Malfoy's face and gave Ginny time to rush to her mother's side. "Mum!" she cried, turning her mother over onto her back.

Malfoy swore creatively and shot off curses in all the wrong directions. Before he had the time to regroup and actually attempt a spell that would work, a very distinctive growl interrupted him.

"Drop it!" said Alastor Moody, in no mood to be trifled with.

Lucius Malfoy had just been bested by Molly Weasley _and_ her youngest child. What he _really _didn't need right then was the Ministry's best Auror showing up. He knew when it was time to retreat. With a 'pop' he apparated from the Burrow as quickly as he could. Which meant, he forgot to take with him the incriminating evidence of him performing an Unforgivable Curse on Charlie Weasley.

"Mum! Mum!" shouted Ginny, each 'Mum' getting progressively louder.

Moody's instincts told him to follow Malfoy but the girl's plaintive cries distracted him. He rushed to her side. He reached out to feel for a pulse, and found himself releasing a breath he hadn't known he had been holding when he discovered a faint one. "She's just stunned, kid," he said.

The girl pressed her head to her mum's stomach and cried.

"What happened?" he growled. He thought it was probably lucky that he constantly kept watch on all the doings of the Order of the Phoenix. Otherwise, he never would have reached the Burrow so quickly.

She said a lot of things that were lost to him, what with her face being buried in her mum's chest. The one that did get through was: "Malfoy kidnapped Charlie."

Moody wasn't much at comforting grieving women, so he stood up and walked over to the other side of the kitchen, where Malfoy had dropped the parchment. It's frightening message had stopped playing about the time he had arrived, but when he picked it up, it started again.

"Blimey," said Moody.

"Shut it off!" screamed Ginny, when it once again got to the torture.

Moody crumpled the paper in his hand, and the memory vanished.

"He wants Narcissa," hissed Ginny. "We have to go get her."

Moody whirled his magical eye on her. Dumbledore hadn't told anyone where he had stashed Narcissa Malfoy. How was it that this kid seemed to know?

"No," he said. "We don't. We gotta get yer Mum to St. Mungo's and then _I _have go track Malfoy."

"But Narcissa—" she began.

"Weasley," he said gruffly. It made him a bit sad to shatter the kid's delusions but he had seen this same trick last war. "You think they ain't done this before? Yer not getting yer brother back alive unless we find him fast."

Molly Weasley only stayed at St. Mungo's for a night, and then she was released to the care of her daughter and husband. The simple stunning spell may not have had a great effect on Molly Weasley's health, but it did have a great effect on her relationship with her daughter. Ginny now stayed with her almost 24 hours of the day. They sat on the sofa, together, waiting for any news of Charlie.

Each day that went by was agony for the Weasley family. They knew that the longer he was missing, the less likely that he would be found alive. Ginny found it oddly comforting each morning when she drifted down the stairs and saw his hand on the grandfather clock pointing to 'mortal peril.' She figured he could not be in mortal peril if he were already dead.

The entire Order of the Phoenix had been told to keep watch for Charlie Weasley. He was one of them, after all. Fellow employees at the dragon sanctuary reported that he had gone missing sometime during the night, as he had been seen by almost all of them after dinner but hadn't shown up to breakfast. No one was sure how the Death Eaters had gotten into the magically protected dragon sanctuary. It made everyone nervous to think that they might have access to dragons now.

Charlie's disappearance did have one upside for Ginny. Because Charlie had been in another country, in a well-protected area, his disappearance had convinced Molly Weasley that the best way to protect her children was to keep an eye on them herself. Talk of sending Ginny to the Salem Witches Institute ceased. Though Ginny was certain her mum still had no intention of sending her back to Hogwarts.

That was, until the owl arrived.

"Ginny," said Molly one day. "We received an owl from Hogwarts this morning."

"Hogwarts?" asked Ginny, while picking at her breakfast.

"Professor McGonagall has hired Alastor Moody to be Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," explained Molly. Ginny stared at her mother. Why would Professor McGonagall send letters alerting the Weasleys of her staffing choice?. It seemed odd.

"Really him this time?" wondered Ginny, thinking of the year they had spent taking notes from a Death Eater.

"Yes," said Molly, not liking her daughter's cheek.

There was a silence in the kitchen as they both regarded each other. "Does that mean I can go back?" asked Ginny, not daring to hope.

"Alastor has promised to keep an eye on you," explained Molly. She added: "And not his regular eye either!"

Ginny was no longer in the mood to fight with her mother about not needing protection. Charlie disappearance had convinced her that she might actually need some. But it still bothered her that none of her brothers were going to have babysitters. They could've been kidnapped too!

"Mum, how come you haven't made Ron come home?" she asked abruptly.

Molly turned to face her daughter. "You think I haven't tried?" she asked. "He won't listen to me at all! I event sent an owl to Harry, thinking he'd talk some sense into Ron. But no!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. This was the first time she had ever heard her mum disparage Harry Potter in any way.

"Maybe you ought to send someone to look after Ron and Harry," suggested Ginny. "I bet Harry'd like to see Professor Lupin…"

Molly thought about it. "That's a good idea," she said. "I'll send an owl to Remus."

"What about Fred and George," said Ginny. "I bet just anyone could come into their store…"

"Oh don't worry about that dear," Molly patted her daughter on the head. "I've already got Mundungus Fletcher watching them. They think he's a riot. Don't know he's reporting to me."

Ginny beamed. Sometimes, she liked the way her mother thought.

With the Hogwarts issue settled to her satisfaction, Ginny was forced to find new things to brood over. Lately she had taken to replaying the encounter with Lucius Malfoy over and over in her mind. Only a few days ago she had planned to be the hero of some battle, and that should've been her chance. Instead, she had almost done something she would have never forgiven herself for.

She had nearly betrayed Narcissa Malfoy's location. She knew that Lucius wasn't looking for her to give her presents. She knew Lord Voldemort wanted her dead. And yet she had been willing to offer her up for Charlie's sake.

Ginny loved her brothers more than anything. She knew she would have done anything for them. But still, one thought nagged her: how was it different than what Priene had done to Kingsley? Hadn't she said she let him die to save her sisters? Ginny had spent the last year despising Priene for her willingness to sacrifice her friend. She thought Priene was a horrible person. Did that make _her _a horrible person too?

What was worse, Moody had told her that even if she had told Lucius where Narcissa was, he wouldn't have exchanged her for Charlie. It would have just sealed Charlie's fate. She had nearly killed her brother. The thought chilled her to the bone. She didn't know what she would do if Charlie died.

A year ago, she had thought she knew what it would mean to be at war, now she was discovering she really had no idea.

The Amazons and even Draco had tried to tell her as much. She remembered Draco's letter: _You can't help. _His mother's life hung in the balance then, the way Charlie's did now.

Except he was a Death Eater, sworn to Lord Voldemort. Harry said that Voldemort had told Draco to kill Dumbledore, yet Draco hadn't been able to do it. Even though he would have been killed for failing. For the first time, Ginny wondered what she would have done in that situation. Would she kill someone good to protect her own life? She hoped she wouldn't, but now she wasn't so sure.

She wished she could talk to Draco now. She knew she still wouldn't be able to help him, but at least she could understand him now.

Nearly a fortnight had passed since Charlie had been kidnapped. The mood at the Burrow became worse with each progressive day. At first, everyone in the Order had been sure they would find Charlie quickly. Apparently, they had far underestimated Lucius Malfoy's ability to conceal himself, because no one had been able to turn up a silver hair. Ginny wavered between hope and despair. Some days she was sure he was fine, after all the clock still said he was alive. Other days she would think about the torture he must be enduring and wonder if him being alive meant anything at all.

Each night, as she climbed the stairs for bed, she wondered if she would ever hear from him again. It was the thirteenth night that she found Draco Malfoy was sitting on her bed.

He had been looking at a piece of parchment he held tightly in his hands, but when she burst through the door, he looked up, blinking. He was unable, or perhaps unwilling to speak at first. She looked around the room, astounded to see that it was indeed her room—exactly as she had left it. And Draco was indeed sitting on her bed, though he did not belong there.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. It was not the most original or insightful question, but it needed to be answered all the same.

He blinked again at looked at the parchment in his hand. She could see now that it was a sealed letter and it was too bulky to contain simply paper. "I'm harassing you," he explained. "Or, I'm supposed to be. My father is quite put out that your family is not cooperating with his well-thought out evil plan. So I have a message for you."

She looked at the thing in his hand, suddenly wary of what it contained.

He seemed wary of what it contained as well, and hastened to add, "I'm just the errand boy." He sounded put out about it—that he had been relegated to sending and fetching. She supposed he was lucky that was all the punishment he'd received for failing his mission.

"Er," he added, "Before I give this to you, you should know that it can be reattached with the right healing spells so long as you kept it in the proper potion."

Ginny gasped, and leaned her head against the doorframe to steady herself. She had wanted to believe it was some sort of empty threat, maybe a cursed artifact. This was the sort of thing she'd only read about in books.

She felt Draco's hand at the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles there. When she looked up he was peering at her curiously, his eyes suspiciously moist. "Why haven't you told…about my Mum?" he asked.

"I can't just let her die!" she protested, knowing her heroic words were not as true as she'd like to believe. She had almost told his father exactly where his mother was. It was just an accident that he had hexed her first. "Besides," she added with less conviction, "he'll just kill Charlie when he gets her back."

Draco nodded. "You're right about that," he said. "He meant to kill him from the start but your family… you have some magical way to tell he's alive, don't you?"

_The clock, _thought Ginny, _the clock always knows where he is. _She opened her mouth to say as much but Draco stopped her.

"Don't tell me," he whispered. She wondered if it was his father he didn't trust or himself.

Suddenly he dropped his arm and wandered across the room, running his hand through his hair. She walked over to the bed, curiosity getting the better of her, and picked up the envelope where he had dropped it. Peeling back the paper, she took a quick peek inside. It was Charlie's finger. She knew because he had a funny scar there from where a dragon had bitten him. Quickly, she shut the flap again and closed her eyes, hoping this all wasn't real.

"At least it's not, you know, the other thing," said Draco. "That's what I thought it'd be."

Ginny whirled and glared at him. "That is not funny!" She was holding her brother's finger in her hands and he was making jokes. What was wrong with him?

"Sorry," mumbled Draco.

The silence in her room was very heavy. Suddenly, she wished he'd make another stupid joke.

"I would've told," he said instead. "If it were the other way. I would've let your brother die to get my Mum back."

"Yeah, well you're a horrible person," she grumbled, and she hoped he knew this time she was making a joke.

He smiled sadly.

"How is that your Dad doesn't know? Why didn't you tell him?" she asked.

"Because I want her to live," he said, flatly. "The Dark Lord wants her dead and _Lucius _doesn't have a problem with that. In fact, he's pretty anxious to have her gone." She felt very sorry for him when she said that. Her family may have been in constant danger, but at least it wasn't from each other. "And," he added a bit cockily, "I'm a pretty good Occlumens."

"I think you mentioned something about that before," she sniffed.

"I'm used to it. I never would've gotten through adolescence if my father knew what I was thinking all the time," He explained. "I'm sorry you have to keep my secrets though." She was possibly one of the only people who had ever been nice to him, and she was truly suffering for it.

Ginny looked at the envelope with the finger. "Is he all right?" she asked.

"He's kind of banged up," said Draco, not elaborating how he got that way. "And he's not really getting enough to eat. I sneak him stuff sometimes but I can't fit a roast chicken under my robes. I'm hoping Potter will make his move soon, then Lucius will be too busy to guard so closely."

Draco didn't look like he was eating well enough himself; it made his cheekbones stick out more prominently. His robes were a bit tatty, which was not at all the look she was used to from him. Of course, she wouldn't go so far as to say he looked _bad. _He had always been handsome.

"Oh, and that finger, there's a spell that you have to do, so that it can—er—go back proper," he explained.

"I know," she whispered. "She had spent a lot of time in the hospital ward with her brothers. Madam Pomfrey had to perform a charm on both the patient and the severed… piece, if they were to attach again naturally. She didn't bother to ask if Draco had done the spell on Charlie already. She knew he wouldn't have mentioned it if he hadn't.

"You'll look after him, won't you?" she asked sadly.

"Yeah," he said. "And you'll look after my Mum."

He reached out for her then and she raised her arm to meet him in the middle. She watched as his pale fingers knotted together with her own. Their happiness depended on each other now; their fate intertwined like their fingers. _United, _Ginny thought as she looked at the link.

And then he kissed her, and their fate was sealed.


End file.
